The Aftermath (Under Construction)
by Angelia Reader
Summary: A year after the war,and Harry Potter still feels the pain of battle. After living in fear of the press and fans, Harry returns to Hogwarts for his final year. It seems no one understands the change that the war has had on Harry, no one, save his greatest enemy. As shared pain draws the two together, something darker insider Harry emerges. HP/DM. Under Construction.
1. Prologue

**_Hello everyone, _**

**_Ok this is the new and improved first chapter. I went through and changed some things that my beta caught. I hope you enjoy it! For you first time readers: this fic is rated M for violence, sex, mention of torture and rape, and language. If you cannot handle these things do not read it. Thank you!_**

**_I do not own Harry Potter._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_~Angelia Reader_**

**Prologue**

**Harry's POV**

_Sparks flew through the air - reds, greens, and golds colliding in mid-air in a lovely and terrifying dance of magic._ _The battle raged on around him as the remaining Death Eaters tried to fight after their Dark Lord fell. A masked figure rushed him, wand raised, preparing to kill. He saw his enemy's lips for the words, but he was faster, killing the man with a flash of green before moving on. Even as he fought for the light, he could still feel the man whose soul he harbored inside his head, stronger, so much stronger._

_The battle was slowing as the last of the Death Eaters died or fled, making him notice the searing pain in his scar. He gasped, sinking to his knees as agony ripped through his body. "You are mine now…" a voice hissed through his soul making him scream._

"No…"

_He could feel hands on him, touching his face, his chest, "Harry…" his closest friend cried._

"_Mine…"_

"No."

_He was being lifted by magic, writhing in the air as another's power tore through him, _

_"Forever…"_

"NO!" he screamed, bolting up in his bed, sweat soaking his sheets. Harry fumbled for his glasses, jamming them on his face as he clicked on his lamp. He was safe in his room at 12 Grimmauld Place - not back on the battlefield after killing his greatest enemy. His head pounded as he huddled on his bed, trying to catch his breath as the dream faded. It was still dark. Rather than break up the darkness, the lamp he had turned on only deepened the shadows. It's golden glow barely reached beyond the foot of his bed. An irrational fear possessed him, and he was on his feet and across the room before he was even conscious of moving. He threw back the curtains, allowing the light of the full moon to penetrate the shadows. He went about the room, turning on every light in the room, including the ones in his private bathroom. When he was satisfied that there was no shadows, no darkness, he collapsed into the comfortable armchair that he had pulled up to his desk.

The room was large, and furnished in heavy antiques. If he was correct in his assumption, they were as old as the house itself. A wardrobe stood across the room from the large bay windows, all of his clothes didn't even take up a fourth of its space. The bed was enormous and sturdy. Dark green curtains hid the piles and piles of soft pillows and warm comforter. A small sitting area was perched just under the windows, complete with antique settee and a beautiful glass table with matching end tables. As there was no overhead lighting. The nightstands on either side of the bed as well as the desk held lovely lamps that cast a soft glow over the entire room. The upholstery was done in the traditional greens and silvers of Slitherin and Black house.

'_I should be used to them by now…' _ He had been plagued with nightmares for the past year- due to the war and the slaying of Lord Voldemort. A full year and he had barely had contact with anyone. He could barely step from his home without being bombarded by reporters after a story or fans begging for a glimpse of the_ famous_ Harry Potter. He had locked himself inside his inherited home, and refused to come out. At first fan mail and interview requests came in floods, but now they were fewer now. People seemed to get discouraged when they were ignored.

Harry glanced at his clock; it was four in the morning. Sighing, he climbed out of his four poster bed, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants - there was no way he was going back to sleep now. He padded softly down the stairs of his home, feeling the emptiness and loneliness press in on him. His room was on the top floor. He had found it only a few days after settling in here permanently. It had once been the bedroom of the head of the Black family when he came for a visit, but it had been abandoned long ago. He paused at Sirius' Room, lightly tracing the nameplate. He had tried to stay here, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. It hurt worse than he cared to admit, trying to interact with something from before.

There was something dark on the edge of his vision, standing just out to sight beside the stairs. His wand was in his hand before he could think about it. He stalked forward, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. For one wild moment he was sure that it was a Death Eater, but as he neared he saw it was only a cloak, hanging old and moth eaten on an even older hook. He forced himself to relax. _'Just a cloak…'_

The house was a still and silent as always. He had expected what was left of the Black family to retaliate, and demand the house back, but thus far no one had come. Not that they would have won the case anyway. The family had all but been obliterated, and those that were left were discredited by the numbers of them that had joined the Dark Lord, and he was (after all) Harry Potter. He could likely get away with outright murder and no one would love him less.

He continued on his way. The kitchen was empty when he wandered in. It was dirty, as if it hadn't been cleaned in an extended period of time. He made a beeline for the fridge, ignoring the stack of unopened letters from both friends and fans alike. He hadn't felt like talking to anyone since the battle for Hogwarts and the end of the war. They were like the others, impressed by his slaying the Dark Lord, star-struck, not understanding what that battle had done to him.

He sighed again when he opened the near empty fridge before moving to the dirty coffee pot which he cleaned with a wave of his wand, and started the coffee. He had been sustaining himself on little else, much to the chagrin of his house elf. The creature felt worthless when Harry didn't eat, and even more so when Harry had refused him to clean anything. He hated relying on Kreature when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself if he wished to. He supposed it was left over instincts from his time with the Dursly's. He was used to cleaning and cooking, and hated having it done for him. While he waited, he heard a soft tapping at his kitchen window. He glanced at it and saw a large, tawny owl hovering with a beak in his mouth. He went to the window to open it, prepared to throw the letter with the others, when he saw the seal. It was a letter from Hogwarts.

_Mr. Harry James Potter,_

_I am pleased to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be opening this coming school year. We would be overjoyed if you would join us for this coming term to complete your final year with us. _

_We understand your wariness to be seen by the public, but we assure you that we will take all measures to make you comfortable should you return to us. _

_Please do not bother writing back. I will know if you will be attending._

_Enjoy your last week of summer,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

Harry stared at the letter in disbelief; they were actually asking him to come back. Could he go back? The very thought of returning to the place where war had been waged made his stomach churn. He didn't know if he could handle walking the same corridors he had watched people he had loved fall got him. His fist clenched around the letter. He couldn't do it. He just wasn't strong enough. He made to throw the offending scrap of parchment in his hands away, but the site of the destroyed kitchen stopped him.

It was as if he were seeing it for the first time. The place was a disaster. Dishes were piled in and around the sink, crusted with what he supposed had once been food but were now indistinguishable mold. The entire kitchen smelled of something long dead and rotted. It was truly revolting. The white of the walls were stained brown. Harry caught his reflection in the window. He looked awful. As if he hadn't seen the sun in…well a year.

"Kreacher." He called out numbly. There was a pop at the house elf appeared in front of him.

"Yes, Master Harry." The elf bowed low, his ears touching the ground as he did so.

"Will you please lay out my clothing? I am going to Diagon Alley," he said, looking over the list of books he would need.

The elf gave a squeal of delight "Yes, Master Harry, Sir," he replied, bouncing on his heels before leaving to complete the task. His excitement was infectious, Harry couldn't help but smile. It felt strange on his face. When was the last time he had smiled?

'_I can't believe I'm going to do this…' _He thought, hardly daring to breathe. _But maybe it will kill this loneliness…' _He had been alone here for far too long, and it was time he got out of the house. Perhaps he would allow Kreature to clean up. The elf seemed to enjoy having something to do. He couldn't believe that he had allowed himself to get in such a state. There was a time when he would had braved the world, the stares, and the adoring fans without a second thought. He felt downright ashamed of the way he was acting.

A feeling of confidence flooded him. There was nothing he couldn't handle. He had been on the run for nearly a year before leading an army into battle. He could deal with going shopping. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, clinging to the frail confidence that welled inside him, he went upstairs to change.

**_Thank you for reading Everyone! So better? Worse? Leave your opinion in a review!_**

**_~AR_**


	2. Diagon Alley

**_Hello everyone!_**

**_Chapter Two, new and improved! Sorry this is taking so long, I will get back to where I was, promise!_**

**_I don't own Harry Potter._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_~Angelia Reader_**

**Chapter One: Diagon Alley**

**Draco's POV**

Pain arched his back, causing him to strain against the chains that bound him to the damp stone.

"_Crucio!" _His father's voice rang in his ears, and again he cried out, his voice raw from screaming.

Blood dripped from deep cuts on his chest, pooling on the stone below his hanging body. Draco had been there since the night before. His father had returned home, drunk as was his usual state. He had turned first on his mother, leaving a large bruise on her cheek before Malfoy stepped in, taking the worse of the torment.

At last the pain faded, and his father lowered his wand. Malfoy's head hung nearly to his chest, his face hidden by chunks of his sweat soaked hair. His chest heaved every breath agony. He could see his father's feet through a curtain of blond. Hands grabbed at his hair, jerking his head up so that he had no choice but to look into his dull grey eyes.

"You did this," he hissed into his son's face, "You turned on us," his fingers tightened in Draco's hair, making him whimper.

"I did what it took to keep us alive," he croaked, and was rewarded with a blow to the face.

After their master had fallen, the young wizard had known the war was lost for the dark. Draco had turned on his former brothers and sisters of the dark, and fought instead for the light. It was the only reason he and his family had been spared the persecution that came after. They had lost a great chunk of their fortune, yes, but it was better than being in Azkaban.

Lucius waved his wand and the chains vanished, causing his son to crash painfully to the ground.

His grabbed his hair again, and shoved his wrist into his face, "You see this," he snarled, "This is what you are," Draco could see the Dark Mark on his wrist. "Not some blood traitor. You will regret your betrayal when the Dark Lord returns to take back his throne."

Malfoy could see the deranged look in his father's eyes so the boy remained silent. This is how these sessions always ended, with Malfoy on the molding stone of his manor's dungeon, bleeding and broken, while his father insisted that their Master was going to return. He could only lay there as Lucius walked away, leaving him alone in the dark. It hurt too much to move, every breath sent pain through his broken ribs.

After what felt like hours, Draco heard the door creak open again. Soft footsteps approached him; he painfully turned his head to see his favorite house elf beside him, lightly dabbing his face with a cool cloth. Her fingers were gentle where his father's had been cruel. As she gently bathed the blood from his body, she sang to him softly. When she had finished, she pulled a blanket from the basket at her side, and draped it over his naked body.

"Does Master Draco need help standing?" she squeaked.

"No Millie," he whispered, "I think I can get up," he struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support, "Thank you Millie, how is my mother?"

"She is well thanks to her brave son."

Nodding, he croaked, "Thank you."

His mother's safety made the hell he went through almost worth it. Without another word he began his painful walk to his room. He passed no one on his way, the servants either busy or hiding, so there was no one to watch and whisper at his excruciating journey. He closed and locked the door before continuing to his private bathroom. It, like his bedroom was done in greens and silvers. He leaned heavily against the sink, his chest heaving from the effort it took to get here. He stared into the mirror, letting the blanket drop to the floor.

Scars crossed his arms and chest, some old and faded white - while others still were red and healing. He knew there were more on his back and legs, while his own Dark Mark was a black brand on his wrist. He grimaced, for nearly a year his father and aunt both had been on the warpath, unable to accept the death of their Master, and he had taken the brunt of their anger. He had done what he needed to do in order to save all of their lives. Had he not, they would have been slaughtered with the rest of the Death Eaters; it had been the only way.

Draco shook his head in disgust, and grabbed a bottle from the counter, taking a gulp of the potion inside. Immediately the fresh wounds on his chest closed, leaving behind angry looking scars. It was the best he could do for now. The once proud wizard collapsed weakly into his bed, to exhausted to do anything more than close his eyes. He lay there for several minutes, letting his mind go blank when he heard a knock at his window. His eyes flew open, and he glanced at the window to see an owl clutching a letter in its beak.

Frowning, he stood, throwing open the window to accept the letter. His confusion deepened when he saw the seal. His teeth sank into his lip as he tore it open to read.

_Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy,_

_I am pleased to inform you that Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be opening this coming school year. We expect to have you join us for this coming term to complete your final year with us. Please do not bother writing back; I will know if you will be attending._

_Enjoy your last week of summer,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

Sneering, Draco crumpled the letter in his hand. There was no way he was planning to attend; he would not deal with everyone seeing him as nothing more than a Death Eater.

He moved to throw the letter away, but the sudden movement caused pain to rip through his body. He bit back a cry of pain and caught himself on the footboard of his bed.

_"Fuck this…" _Anger boiled in his blood, "I_ refuse to take this anymore. If getting out of this hell means going to Hogwarts then so be it_."

Draco went to his closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a green shirt. Slipping on a robe, he snatched his wand off his night stand, and left the house for Diagon Alley.

**Harry's POV**

_"Don't look around. Don't react. Just ignore them…"_

Harry forced himself to continue forward, ignoring the crowd that was gathering behind him. He could hear them whisper, speaking of him, and his accomplishments, his acts in the war. He hated hearing the awe in their voices, hated the feeling of their eyes watching his every move.

One of them got brave. She was a reporter obviously. She shoved herself to the front, her teeth flashing bright and her blonde ponytail bobbing behind her. Her quill poised over some parchment, she demanded, "Mr. Potter, it's been months since anyone has seen you in public, where have you been? What have you been doing?"

"No comment," he murmured, stepping around her.

"But Mr. Potter, you have yet to express your feelings on the war and your heroic journey of killing He Who Must not be Named, could I please just have a moment of your time?" She begged, keeping stride with him.

"I said no comment," he continued forward, not looking back.

He had already purchased most of his supplies, but it was taking longer than it should have. Every store he walked in grew immediately silent, as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting for him to act. He gritted his teeth, and fought through the growing crowd of press and fans until he reached the Leaky Cauldron. He shoved open the door and stumbled inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light.

The moment he did, he could see every eye was turned to him, "Mr. Potter," the new owner stepped forward, "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He smiled his best smile, and gestured for Harry to step inside.

"Bring me whatever your special is," he said softly and went straight to an empty table in the corner to be alone.

He could hear conversation start to pick up, revolving around his arrival and he glared out into the room. He had never wanted to be the chosen one, the attention he got from that was enough, but now that he was, as the papers said, "_the greatest wizard that ever lived_" the attention was unbearable. Not for the first time, he wished Voldemort had killed him that night; it would have saved him the torment of being a hero.

No sooner than his food was set down did the door open again, and a flash of flaming red hair threw herself into his arms. He gasped, and held the woman at arm's length, "Ginny?" he gasped, looking her over.

"Harry!" The girl squealed. "It's been so long! You should have told us you were coming out today!" She made an attempt to hug him again, but he held her away.

"Ginny, get off him," Ron approached the table laughing, "How have you been mate?" he asked smiling.

"I've been…" Harry shook his head.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "You're a hero, the most famous wizard in history. You should be overjoyed," Ron continued.

Harry shook his head again, and looked at his friends without saying anything. They just didn't get it; they didn't understand what this was like, not being able to do anything without the world on his ass. He had more than a strong suspicion that they had only befriended him because of his fame and the Potter fortune.

Ron plopped down in the seat beside Harry, and called over the owner, "Give us your best everything," he exclaimed, "There is nothing too good for the famous Harry Potter," he smiled, enjoying the eyes that looked on him with awe. Harry had seen the interviews he had done for the Profit. He had glorified their journey in finding the Horcruxes, and glossing over the fact that he had complained the whole time, left them halfway through, and came back almost completely by accident. If you went on his account alone, you would think that they had known all along where they were, instead of finding each one having been an accident.

"Listen Ron, I think I'm going to go. I still have a lot that I need to get done," he stood, preparing to leave. He could feel a headache coming on, pounding just behind his eyes. He wanted nothing more than the silent emptiness of his home.

"But Harry," Ginny whined. "We haven't seen each other in forever! Why don't you stay?"

'B_ecause you were never my real friends__.'_

Just before the war, he had heard a rumor that the Weasley children had been made to be friends with him, craving the fame and money he could bring them by marrying Ginny and becoming best friends with Ron. Their actions since the end of the war only confirmed it. He said nothing however, scooping up his purchases and making his way towards the bathrooms so he could put on his invisibility cloak. No sooner did he turn the corner out of sight did he bump into someone. He glanced up and found himself staring into a pair of familiar grey eyes.

**Sorry to leave it with a cliffhanger. I'll post as often as I can. Thank you for reading! Please Review!**

**~Angelia Reader**


	3. First Contact

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**Again thank you to all those that have followed and reviewed, and to Allie Danger for being my first favorite! Thank you all for your continued support, and I'd just like to do a few house keeping things. Anyone who died in the series except for Snape is still dead. Also please, please please review if you're able, I need to know if I'm heading in the right direction, and what my readers want, and the only way I can do that is if you review the story. Likewise, if you see any errors (spelling or otherwise) please send me a PM and tell me so it can be fixed. Thanks everyone!**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Two: First Contact**

**Draco's POV**

He stepped back, away from his former rival, "Sorry," he smirked without moving from his path.

Harry made and attempt to go around him and he stepped into his way, blocking his path again. Harry gritted his teeth and sighed in frustration, he didn't have time to deal with him; he wanted out of here. Now. "Listen Malfoy, I don't have time or the patience to deal with you. Get the fuck out of my way."

"Aww poor Potty," he teased, "You would think you hated all of this attention by the way you're acting." He absently checked his nails, a smirk still on his lips.

"Damn it," Harry hissed, trying and failing to step around him again.

Draco laughed; this was the most fun he had had in a long time. Rumor had it that Potter hadn't been seen in public since the battle for Hogwarts; and he looked it too. His hair was longer than he remembered; hanging nearly to his shoulders, and his skin had taken on a sick, pale color that only highlighted the bags under his eyes. All in all, his nemesis did not look well. Though, he was sure he didn't look much better. He felt almost sorry for him. What kind of hell had he been going through this past year? Was fame so bad? He shook his head to clear it; there was no way he was going to ask.

He watched as he glanced nervously behind him, and he could see that the two youngest Weasley children were coming this way. He felt a pang of empathy when he saw the distress in Harry's eyes, "You know," he said softly, all hint of arrogance gone from his voice, "No one else would make a big deal out of your fame if you weren't avoiding it."

Harry didn't even try to deny it; he simply gave him a desperate look. Draco shook his head, and stepped aside, "Just think about that Potter," he said simply as Harry darted into the bathroom. He leaned causally against the wall as The Weasleys passed, Ron shooting him an icy look. He chuckled softly as he shoved the door open only to find an empty bathroom. Malfoy was positive he could see the flutter of something as the door closed. Laughing again, he walked back into the pub only to have glares turned his way.

That had been happening all day, in every shop he entered, no matter where it was, he was known as a Death Eater, and was treated with nothing but hostility. It didn't matter it seemed, that he had went to the Ministry and provided any information he had on Death Eater camps spread all across the globe, he would always be a traitor in the eyes of the public.

Draco ignored the glares as he made his way through the room, mounting the stairs to go to the room he had rented for double the price. He collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes. He was lucky he supposed, from his seventeenth birthday, his parents had transferred his fortune into a private account for him. They, more importantly his father, could not touch it when they realized he was gone as he was sure they had. His father would be furious, and his mother heartbroken, but he could not stay there any longer. He shook his head, and curled up on the large, unfamiliar bed and drifted off into a light, fitful sleep.

**Harry's POV**

The moment he crossed the threshold of his home, Harry closed and locked the door, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. It was a mistake to go out, he rationalized; he should have just had his supplies delivered. The entire day had been nothing but people wanting to know what it was like to have won the war for the light. He couldn't tell them that it was hell. He couldn't say how every night he dreamed of blood and fire and death, or that he grew to hate those that had prepared him for it.

He could not say to them how he had come to truly despise not just Lord Voldemort, but Dumbledore as well.

The long dead headmaster had manipulated him, training him to be his champion when the time was right, all under the guise of love and affection. He had said that it was in Harry's best interest that as "The Chosen One" he was the only one who could destroy the most evil wizard in existence. He had been wrong. All his efforts got him was a world without Voldemort, and a handful of painful nightmares. He wished he was dead. He could admit that much. He wished he had died when Voldemort's soul had been torn from his body that night in the forbidden forest. It would have been easier, merciful even if that had been his last breath.

Now that the war was over, he had so little left to live for. His friends were all but gone, more concerned with their own lives and what he could bring them; the press was on his tail, camping outside his home more often than not in hopes of catching a picture of him. He had no one. He stayed alone in his carnivorous manor.

With a sigh Harry collapsed onto a chair in his dining room, "Kreacher," he called softly, "Could you please prepare something for me to eat." It didn't matter that the elf had not appeared, he know he could hear him. As he sat there, waiting for his meal, he thought back on his encounter with Malfoy. He had been surprised to see him; after all, he had been a Death Eater. Even more surprising was that, besides his first comment of "Potty," he had not insulted him. He had not expecting that. It was almost as if he had changed as much as Ron and Ginny had. _They had been worsened by the war, and Malfoy had been bettered? _He mused as a bowl of soup was set in front of him. _It's not like it matters. He's still the same self-centered prick he has always been._

On the heels of that was the memory of what he had told him, _He has a point…_ It wasn't as if it mattered though, he did not want to acknowledge them, any of them if it meant that he had to admit how he had been used as nothing more than a pawn in Dumbledore's war. He set his bowl aside and made for his room, drained from the small effort it had taken to get out of the house. He threw off his clothes, leaving them where they landed and crawled into bed, preparing to face the horrors of his dreams.

_**Ugh… I don't feel very confident on this one; I had to rewrite it twice to get it where it is. I hope this doesn't deter anyone from this story. Please be considerate, but honest in your criticism. Also I have a question: Would you rather have shorter, more frequent chapters, or longer, widely spaced ones? Answer in a review or PM. Thank you everyone!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	4. The Hogwarts Express

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**Thank you all for your continued support, and reviews. I would like to thank Sergeant LemoOoN and avalon evermore; they are the two newest favorites for this story. Please continue to review and read. This chapter will time skip to the train where your two lovers will again meet. Thank you everyone! This would not be possible without my readers!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Three: The Hogwarts Express**

**Harry's POV**

The loud din of voices died the moment he stepped onto the platform. The only sounds were of the screeching of owls and the roar of the train. He kept his eyes forward and made his way to the train, his trunk in tow.

"Mum…" an awed whisper reached his ears, "Is that Harry Potter?"

"Yes sweetie, it is. You'll be a Gryffindor just like him, I just know it. You're father and I were…" He was out of earshot, not wanting to hear the woman assure her son that he would follow in the footsteps of a hero. He almost wanted to stop, and tell him what it was really like to be so sought after. What it was like to be controlled. Slowly he could hear other conversations popping up, and he tensed when he sensed someone approach him.

"Mr. Potter…?" the voice was that of a young child, a little girl.

He stopped and looked back at her, her eyes were large, shimmering blue, "Mr. Potter…" she started again, "Could I please…" she held up a small bit of parchment and a quill, her fingers trembling. He bit his lip, there was no way he could say no to a child; he had always had a soft spot for children.

He took the parchment from her, "What's your name?" he murmured.

"Amanda Gray," she squeaked.

He quickly scrawled a short autograph and handed the paper back to her, "There you go Amanda," he said softly, not realizing his mistake.

A man appeared after she had left, "Mr. Potter could you please sign my-"

He was cut off as another woman, this one a student, shoved herself at him, "Please sign this,"  
she shoved a book in his face.

He stepped around her, fighting his way through the growing crowd. He was running by the time another student stepped in front of him. He half jumped up the steps to the train, and bolted down the corridor. He ducked into an empty compartment as the wave of bodies tore through the corridor. He slammed the door shut, and locked it, drawing the curtains.

"Fuck…" he breathed, collapsing into a seat. It was a mistake to give the child an autograph; he should have known it would have started a riot. He grimiest and glanced at the window as parents and reporters were being escorted off of the train.

"You know," Harry jumped and looked wildly around the compartment, and found himself again staring to grey eyes, "That could have gone better," He laughed, and leaned forward grinning.

"Fuck off," he grumbled under his breath, scooting to the far side of the compartment. He considered leaving, but there was no way he was going to brave the crowd again.

Malfoy only gave him a cocky grin, and sat back, his arms draping over the back of the seats, "I was here first Potter, you walked in on me."

Harry ignored him, glaring out the window as the train slowly took off. They sat in silence for several minutes, the silence got to him, "Why aren't you sitting with your friends," Harry snapped, turning his pent up anger to the boy sitting across from him.

"Why aren't you?" he countered, seemingly unfazed.

A low, frustrated sound pulled from Harry's throat and he turned back to the window.

"As things are, most of _my_ friends are either dead or in Azkaban. Though you probably already knew that," Malfoy said simply, there was no hint of malice or anger in his voice. He was tired of fighting, tired of the stain that his family name brought him.

Harry said nothing still, "What ever could be the matter Chosen One?" Draco asked, his own temper rising; he hated to be ignored.

"Don't call me that," Harry said after a long moment, "Please don't."

"And why is that?" he snapped, "You are the Chosen One aren't you. The wizard who was destined to defeat the Dark Lord," Still there was not bitterness in his voice, only anger.

"No," he snapped, "I wasn't. There was no "Chosen One" it was all lie to get me to kill," He regretted the words the moment they left his lips. He had found a journal after the battle, among the rubble of the headmaster's office. It had been Dumbledore's, and it had spelled out every detail of his plans for Harry.

He truly was nothing more than a pawn. The prophecy was a lie, and his friends, his teachers, everyone was in on it. Everyone he had trusted had lied to him, all so that they could put an end to the war. That wasn't even the worst part his parents had not been murdered, and their death had not been by the hand of Voldemort. They had been sacrificed by Dumbledore himself so that Harry would have the drive to one day stand on the battlefield and kill his enemy. But he wasn't going to admit that to Malfoy.

**Draco's POV**

"Oh?" Malfoy asked, his anger gone "And why do you say that?" he leaned forward again, suddenly curious.

"Never mind," he grumbled, glaring back out the window.

"Where is this anger coming from?" he asked, moving suddenly and sitting next to Harry. He knew what it was like to be angry all the time; he had spent his life angry. He knew it always stemmed from something deeper.

Again there was silence for a long time before Harry finally lifted his gaze to Draco's, "I can't go back there," he said finally, shocking Draco with the pain that glistened in his eyes.

_I never realized that Potter had such pretty eyes, _He thought as he looked at the man who was once his rival, "And why not?" he asked softly.

"I've killed on that ground. I've watched people I cared about bleed and die, hell I've died on those grounds. It holds some of the worst moments of my life," He admitted, his pain too great to keep it in any longer.

Hesitantly, Malfoy reached out and lightly touch Harry's shoulder, "If you ever need someone to talk to… I know we have never had the best relationship but…" he stopped and shook his head, standing suddenly and going back to his side of the compartment.

**Harry's POV**

Harry looked at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He had never told anyone his feelings for going back to Hogwarts. Hell he hadn't even expressed them to himself, and yet here he was spilling his heart out to a man that hated him.

Harry shook his head and turned back to the window. Save for the words Draco spoke to point out that they should change (which they each did while hidden behind a privacy charm), the ride was made in complete silence.

_**Ok Everyone,**_

_**Thank you for reading! I hope you like it so far. The next Chapter will be the feast and maybe some of the first day of classes; it all depends on you readers. I ask again, would you rather have longer chapters that come less often or short ones that come every day? Answer in the review or PM me. Don't be shy! I want to hear what you have to say about my story. Thank you everyone!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	5. The Feast

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**Ok first thing's first, I am sorry for not posting. My muse died on me when I sat down to write, and then when I revived her, my internet to a dump on me. If you're a writer you know how that it… I've done some minor editing to my previous chapters per request. Please continue to point out any glaring mistakes. Thank you all for your comments and support as well as my flood of favorites: Seborga-RPer , angelforbesmarch, dcfg21, mustamestari, Belldandy55555, LaylaOfTheCrypt, Silvereyes11, Trinity2002, preppygoth13, and redmystique! Thank you all! My readers are the reason why this story is continuing. This chapter will be the feast, and their first night back.**_

_**As always…**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Four: The Feast**

**Draco's POV**

The great hall was nearly full by the time he took his seat at the Slytherin table. He wasn't surprised to see that about half of the students from his year were gone. Many of his house mates had come from rich, Pureblood families, so when war broke out, a good number of them sided as his family had. He was actually surprised to see the number of people that were left. It proved, he supposed, that not all Slytherins were high-bread assholes.

He glanced at the other tables and was surprised to see that while both the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw houses had a handful of students gone, the Gryffindor table was the only on that rivaled the amount of students missing. He knew there was some of it due to death but he had known that the Claverdon siblings and Simpson boy had been alive after Voldemort fell, and he knew both families had been marked around the same time he had.

He scanned the table, and found Potter sitting near the end, surrounded by his fellow Gruffindors. Even from his seat across the hall, he could tell that Harry was miserable. The set of his jaw, and the way he kept flinching whenever someone talked to him. He pitied him. He was ignored or met with hatred when he went out in public; he could not imagine what it was like to be stalked. He almost felt the urge to stand and rescue him from the pack of giggling girls that made up his fan club. He shook his head as a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Welcome one and all," Malfoy turned to the High Table to see Headmistress McGonagall standing, looking out over the crowd, "Thank you all for joining us for another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you all know, it has been a year since one of our own ended the war that tore our school apart." She paused again, letting her words sink in.

Malfoy glanced again at Potter, seeing the tension in his shoulders as McGonagall looked at him, "I would like to thank everyone who donated time and resources to help rebuild. With that being said, I would like to commence with the sorting ceremony."

A group of first years trouped to the front, dressed in fresh, new robes. The sorting hat gave some ominous song on the houses becoming one, and the return of old enemies. Malfoy tuned out the names as they were called, clapping with the others when he heard someone join his house and ignoring the boos that proceeded the child. After what seemed like an eternity, everyone had been sorted, and after a few words of congratulations, the food appeared, making the table groan under its weight. Malfoy's stomach growled loudly, and tore into the feast.

**Harry's POV**

This was hell. Harry had made that decision not even five minutes after sitting down. He had been surrounded by his house-mates from the moment his butt hit the seat. His fellow Gryffindors immediately wanted to know where he had been, and what he had been up to. All questions he avoided the best he could. Ginny had practically climbed in his lap, as she had in the Leaky Cauldron a week before, running her fingers through his hair, and taking every opportunity to mark him as hers. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to push her away.

Ron was not much better, loudly boasting about their travels as they had looked for the horcruxs, and how he had destroyed one himself with the sword of Gryffindor. Hermione, while not quite so obvious about her pride, added to Ron's stories when she could. Harry did his best to ignore them, but it was getting unbearable. He was grateful the moment the Headmistress stepped forward for the final time.

To make matters worse, everywhere he looked held the memories of the dead. In every corner of this hall, he could remember the piles of bodies, all dead in his name. At the raised platform that held the High Table, he could remember they had laid the body of Voldemort for all to see. The memories were enough to ruin his appetite and make him want to run screaming from the grounds. It was almost more than he could take. Almost.

"I hope you all enjoyed that delicious meal," she said with a small smile, "Before I send you all off to your beds I'd to make a few announcements. I would like to announce this year's potions master, Ms. Gerda Runcorn." A small blond witch who was sitting beside the Headmistress stood and bowed slightly. She couldn't have been much older than Harry was, obviously fresh from schooling, "Professor Runcorn is coming to us from the United States, so please make her feel welcome." McGonagall continued, looking out over the Hall, "Furthermore, Professor Snape will be joining us for another year as our Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor."

The student body gave a collective gasp, everyone had heard that Snape had been killed. Harry nearly choked on his Pumpkin Juice and looked up at the High Table, spotting immediately the dark, greasy hair of his mother's closest friend. _No… _He thought, shock numbing his mind _I watched him die…_

"To quell the rumors that may manifest, Professor Snape is alive and well. He is the same professor that had been teaching here. No he is not a vampire, no he is not immortal, and no, he is no longer a Dark wizard. He will be treated with the same respect you would show me," her eyes flashed darkly, daring anyone to challenge her. Harry continued to watch the fallen professor, not believing that he was still alive. Even from here, he could see the dark read scars where the snake had sank its teeth into his throat.

"That is all," she said finally, "You are all dismissed," with a wave of her wand the food vanished, and students began their journey to the door. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were among the last to leave, no sooner than they reached the door did someone lightly touch his arm.

"One moment Mr. Potter," the headmistress' voice came from right behind him. Harry flinched, and slightly stepped away from her, "If I could please have a quick word with you," she motioned for him to follow her.

She waded through the crowd with ease, looking back every so often to make sure Harry was still following. They made the journey to her office in silence, the only words spoken was the password at the gargoyle (Every-flavored beans).

Harry hesitated at the door, while the Headmistress continued forward, lighting a fire with a wave of her wand before sitting down at her desk. He hadn't been here since finding the journal, and it looked much the same as it had during the lessons with Dumbledore two years ago. He bit his lip, the memories of his time there coming back. He felt a pang of sorrow mixed with anger. It had all been a lie, he had to remember that. Dumbledore had lied to him.

"Please have a seat Mr. Potter, I know you must be tired, and I don't want to keep you longer than I have to," after Harry had sat, she studied him for a long moment before saying, "You don't look well Harry," her voice was soft, concerned, "And if the rumors are to be believed, you haven't been seen by anyone in quite some time. I'm worried about you."

"Headmistress-" he started.

"Please Harry, none of the formality; I think we're past that."

"I've just been going through a really rough time," he murmured, "It's been difficult adjusting," he lied smoothly, never missing a beat. The journal had said nothing about her, so he refused to admit the betrayal until he was sure she had had nothing to do with it.

"I understand that," he responded, leaning forward, "and I just wanted to extend the offer. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm no more than an owl away. Furthermore," she continued "I understand it would be difficult to be in the Gryffindor dormitories and have the others asking questions, so I'm offering you your own room on the seventh floor, right down the hall from the Fat Lady."

Harry smiled politely, letting his gratitude show. His nightmares were getting bad, and they would only get worse by being here, "Thank you," he bowed his head.

"Of course, you deserve at the very least your privacy," she gave him quick instructions on how to enter his quarters; "I'll let you leave and rest now Harry. I expect to see you at breakfast in the morning."

After being dismissed, Harry set out to find his new quarters. They weren't hard to find, being only right down the hall from the portrait that lead to the Gryffindor common room. He stopped at a large mirror, and lightly tapped his wand with it three times. It swung open to reveal his new home. He didn't bother to look around, there would be time for that in the morning, and he was tired. He made a beeline for the bedroom, and collapsed on the bed still clothed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, his last thought being that he really hoped McGonagall had not betrayed him.

_**I apologize again for the wait, it was beyond my control. I hope that you will all continue to read, and forgive a poor writer who lost her precious muse. Thank you all for reading and for your continued support. I really want to hear more from you. Please review even if it's just one word expressing your feelings for the story. **_

_**With love,**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	6. Welcome Back

_**Hello Everyone,**_

_**Thank you all for your understanding, and I'm glad you enjoyed my last chapter. As always, I love to hear from you, and I would like to thank both SophieAngel69 and AcadianProud for continuing to point out my mistakes, and lending so much support to this story. Also I would like to thank my newest favorites: stormygreybones, VampireAngelBec, VampQhuinn, Rangiku-Gin. If I've forgotten anyone, I apologize, please forgive me. This chapter will pick up on the first day of classes. There's going to be some tension between Harry and his "friends" and our couple is going to brought together again.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Five: Welcome Back**

**Harry's POV**

_The forest floor was soft under his shoes. The air smelled clean, earthen, fresh after the rain. His feet made no sound as he followed them to the place where he would die. Hollow. He felt so hollow. He couldn't process it… Dumbledore hadn't told him, but he now knew he had to die. Someone will step forward Neville or Ron or Hermione, someone will kill him once he was gone. He stepped forward into the circle light; the fire was warm on his skin. He saw his enemy, his brother, stand, and raise his wand. He saw the flash of light, and then the pain, and then…_

Harry bolted up in bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He blinked, looking around in confusion. It took him several seconds to realize where he was. The room they had given him was done in the reds and golds of his house, just like his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. The only difference was the accents of silver and black.

Harry collapsed back into the bed, closing his eyes and trying to chase away the last shreds of his nightmare. He hated that one, almost more than any other. He had relived his death several times in the past year, and it always ending with him waking up in tears. He should have stayed dead. That had been his plan. But the spell had destroyed Voldemort's soul, not his. He was alive when his heart started beating again. He fumbled for his wand and absently waved it in the air watching as the time appeared for a few seconds before fading. He curled up in the bed as the dream faded back into the abyss. There was no way he was going back to sleep, especially at five in the morning. He would only have to be up in two hours anyway.

He laid there for several minutes, his mind blessedly blank, before finally climbing from the tangle of sheets and heading to the bathroom. The room was cavernous, the center taken up by a pool sized tub. A large walk in shower took up the entire east wall, while a mirror took up the wall opposite it. A small door beside the shower led to the toilet. After a quick detour to relieve himself, Harry stumbled into the shower. He turned the water as hot as it would go, letting the scalding water run down his back, and burn away the last tendrils of his nightmare. He took his time in the shower, scrubbing his body until his skin was pink, even taking the time to wash his hair.

He stepped from the water at a quarter past six, feeling much better than when he had gotten in. He wrapped himself in a soft, white towel and crossed the large room to the mirror. He wiped the steam from the class, and gazed at his reflection. _I look awful…_ he lightly touched the spot under his eyes where dark smudges colored his otherwise pale face. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his skin was shallow, drawn tight across his cheekbones, as if he hadn't seen the sun or a good meal in months. His hair was longer than he remembered, and untamed even after his shower. He let the towel drop away, reveling his ribs that were poking out of his chest. _When was the last time I actually looked at myself?_ He wondered. Picking the towel back up and leaving to dress. He looked ill. _I suppose that's what I get for living like a hermit for a year._

He dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a soft, blue sweater. After shrugging on a robe, Harry decided to make his way down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. He met no one on his way there, and to his relief it was nearly empty save for a handful of students and teachers. He sat down at the Gryffindor table and nibbled on a bit of toast. There was no way he could eat much in this room. He had seen far too much death here to ever be comfortable.

"Harry!" a voice called, as a redhead threw herself at him, "Did you sleep well Harry? Where were you last night?" Ginny asked, lightly kissing his cheek.

"I was given my own quarters," he explained, gently pushing her off of his lap.

"Your own room?" she asked, again pressing herself against him, a wolfish grin on her lips, "Maybe I can join you then tonight."

"Listen, Ginny," he began, scooting away from her, "There's something we need to talk about."

"Anything Love," she smiled, and ran her fingers through his hair, "You know I really like your hair long. You should keep it like this."

"Ginny," he gently removed her hand from his hair, "We, you and I…" his teeth sank into his lip, "We're not a couple, you know that right?"

She froze, "What are you talking about Harry? Are you breaking up with me?" her eyes flashed.

_Fuck, she's angry… _"We were never together Ginny. Hell, I haven't seen you in over a year."

"How dare you," she cried out, standing and stepping away from him, "You can't just do this to me!"

"Listen," he said, also standing. Whatever he was about to say was cut off by her hand across his cheek. She raised her arm to smack him again, but her grab her wrist, "Damn it, Ginny," he hissed, his cheek burning from the smack.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" Ron's voice came from behind him, Harry turned to look at him and Hermione.

"He's breaking up with me," Ginny snapped, jerking her wrist from his grip.

"Mate, what's going on? I thought you loved her," Ron said, confused.

"I just don't want any kind of relationship," he said, looking from one to the other, "I'm not in any shape to be in a relationship to be honest."

"But you love Ginny," Ron stated stupidly, anger in his eyes.

Harry glanced at the growing crowed, and simply sighed, "Listen, I thought I did, but things change and-"

"Oh so my sister isn't good enough for you then?" Ron snapped, "A regular witch isn't good enough for the Famous Harry Potter?"

Harry looked to Hermione for help, but she shrugged, "You know he has a point."

He gritted his teeth in frustration; he should have guessed she would side with her new fiancé.

"How dare you break up with me," Ginny snarled. Harry shook his head and turned to go, "Don't you dare walk away from me!" she cried out, reaching for him.

Harry started for his wand, a reflex he had gotten since the war, but before he could Professor Snape stepped between them.

"Miss Wesley, control yourself. I believe your obvious assault on Mr. Potter warrants you ten points from Gryffindor and a nights detention with me Saturday night," he voice was as cold and detached as it always was, "The rest of you," he said softly, glaring out at the crowd that had gathered to watch the show, "Class is in five minutes, anyone I catch not in it will get fifty points from their respective houses, hero or not," he last he said while looking down at Harry, his eyes filled with their usual malice.

The crowd began to dissipate, "You'll pay for this," Ron hissed, putting his arm around a furious Ginny, both of their faces were as red as their hair, colored by anger.

"I think that merits another ten points," Snape said simply, "Unless you'd like to lose any more get to class Mr. Wesley."

The three of them left, leaving only Harry and Snape, "Thank you Professor," Harry murmured, looking up at him.

"Leave it to you Mr. Potter to start a fight on the first day back," the older man smiled slightly, his eyes softening, "My office is still in the dungeons; I expect to see you there tonight. There is something I feel we need to talk about."

Harry nodded, "Yes Sir," he said simply, before setting off to his fist lesson, positive that Snape would keep to his threat.

**Draco's POV**

Malfoy was still smirking by the time he reached the dungeons. He had caught almost all of the little performance between Potter and the Wesleys. Malfoy stepped into the familiar classroom, glad to find that it had changed little with the new teacher.

"Everyone please find the seat with your name on it," the new professor said softly, going to her spot at the front of the class, "The person sitting at your table will be your partner for the rest of the year. There will be no substitutions."

Malfoy made his was to his seat, positioned at the front of the class, and found that his partner was already there, "Well Potter, we meet again." He smirked, sat down next to Harry, "I saw your break up. I'm sorry to hear things weren't working out with your girlfriend," he laughed, as he pulled out his books.

"She wasn't my girlfriend. She only thought she was," Harry said simply, never taking his eyes off of the front of the classroom.

"I see," he said simply, "So you broke up with a girl that you weren't even dating?" he asked.

"I didn't break up with her. All I did was stop her from trying to start a relationship," he said in the same detached voice.

_I wonder what's eating him…_ Malfoy mused, not bothering to analyze why he was so curious.

Before he could ask anything more, the lesson began, "Good morning everyone, welcome Advanced Potions. For all of you that don't know I am Professor Runcorn. To begin I'm going to see what you remember from last year. Please take out your books and turn to pages 102 and 103. You will be making a simple aging potion. You have ninety minutes to do so; all of the supplies are in the back. You may begin."

Malfoy scanned the ingredients list, "I'll go grab what we need, go ahead and get the fire started." He said his tone distant. Potions were his forte, and always a distraction. He moved quickly, grabbing up the few supplies they would need, ignoring the blank look Wesley was giving the cupboard. When he returned, he found the fire burning and water set to boil. He added the first of the ingredients, and siring counterclockwise. He glanced at the instructions, reading that it needed to simmer until it was gold. He sat back and waited, glancing at his partner.

"You look tired," he said after a few seconds.

"I am," Harry responded softly, "I…" he hesitated, struggling with something for a moment before finally setting his jaw, "This place gives me nightmares," he said at last.

Malfoy nodded, "I know the feeling. I was here too, remember." He had tossed and turned all the night before, hardly getting an hour of true sleep.

Harry added something to the potion before responding, "I remember. You tried to kill me."

"And then you saved my life," Malfoy pointed out, "And then you killed the Dark Lord and became a hero."

"And then I had nightmares every night since, and then I got stalked every time I showed my face. And then I found out it was all for nothing," he said so softly, Malfoy couldn't be sure he had heard it.

"You said that earlier. What do you mean?" he asked, stirring the potion.

Harry shook his head, and looked at Malfoy as if he had just realized who he was talking to, "Nothing," his face closed off, effectively ending the conversation.

Malfoy nodded, and turned back to his book. _If I push he'll only shut me out._ He thought, reading over the instructions to the potion again, and on the heels of that, _Why do I even care…?_

The finished the rest of the lesson in silence. Both too consumed by their own thoughts to speak to the other.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I hope you enjoyed this, it's a little longer than the other chapters, so don't be expecting this every day. I have a somewhat free day to write, so I took advantage of it. Thank you for your continued support! Review or PM me with your thoughts, comments, and corrections!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	7. The Meeting

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**I'm sorry it's been a few days, but I just haven't really felt the urge to write. My muse is singing, but I don't really feel like listening. I'm going to make myself write this because if I don't then my muse may go on strike. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as it should be, and I would really like to hear from you. I have three favorites to announce: Kissimi, DreamsRemorse, and AzureKurashin. Thank you and all of my other favorites. I'm begging you to review and tell me what you think. I enjoy hearing from my readers; it helps me write (if that makes sense). Anyway in this I'm going to time skip through the rest of the day to Harry and Snape's meeting.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Six: The Meeting**

**Harry's POV**

By the time dinner was finished, Harry was drained. The day had been rough. By the time potions was over, everyone it seemed knew about the scene he and Ginny had made. He had thought that by telling her that he was no interested, that it would put an end to the annoyance of having a woman prying into his life, but it seemed to make it worse. All day, on top of having students asking about how he had spent the year since they had seen him last, there had been wave after wave of girls practically throwing themselves at him to get his attention. As if that wasn't exhausting enough, classes had started back with a vengeance, with every class starting right into its lessons.

Dinner was no much better; he kept getting dirty looks from Ginny, Ron, and Hermione (who had sided with her fiancé) from the far end of the table. He did his best to ignore the whispers around him, but if he heard one more rumor about him vacationing in the States or working on a "top secret" mission for the Ministry, he was sure he would explode.

After only picking at his meal, Harry glanced at the staff table, noting that Snape was not there. He could feel eyes on him as he left, but he kept his back straight and his head held forward, never acknowledging them. He made his way down to the dungeons, grateful that most everyone was in the Great Hall. Snape's office was only a few feet from the potion's room; it was hidden behind by a large tapestry depicting some great battle from a wizard war centuries ago. Harry stood there for a moment, studying it. It looked so different than when he had last seen it, but still so familiar. He frowned, stepping back to look at the whole picture.

"Oh…" he whispered as his mind finally registered what he was looking at. No longer was it the war of Grumplkin; it was the battle for Hogwarts. Harry shuddered slightly as he observed the detail, it was almost exactly as he had remembered it. His eyes fell on the lower right corner, to the spot by the lake, and sure enough, he saw himself, wand raised, standing across from Voldemort. He could hardly breathe, and before he could look any more, the tapestry melted away, reveling an open door with Professor leaning against the doorway.

He said nothing, but simply stepped back motioning for Harry to enter. They walked down a short hall that gave way to the small office and living quarters of the former Headmaster, "Please have a seat," Snape murmured, going to the heating kettle to pore them each a cup of tea. After handing the warm cup to Harry and setting out a small plate of pastries, he sat behind his desk. He reminded silent for several long minutes sipping his tea and watching Harry closely.

"How bad are the nightmares, Potter?" he said finally. He wasn't sure how to proceed exactly. It was awkward. He had pretended to hate Harry for so long, that he was sure that was the only image he would have of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied instinctively, looking away from the Professor.

"Don't lie to me Potter. I can see it in your eyes; you haven't slept right in some time."

Harry said nothing, and took to studying the ever increasing number of jars that decorated the office.

"Potter… Harry, please I know it's difficult but you have to open up to someone. So I ask again, how bad are the nightmares?"

Harry sighed in frustration, it was the first time he had ever called him by name, "How did you survive?" He countered, evading his question. He didn't feel like spilling his guts to someone who he had been convinced hated him for seven years.

Snape shook his head, "I was found not long after you had left. By some of the Order," he murmured, "They thought the Shrieking Shack would be the fastest and safest way to the battle, and they ran across me, bleeding to death. One of them was a medwitch and healed me the best she could before moving on," He lightly touched the fang marks on his throat, "I stayed in that shack until the battle was finished because I was too weak to move, and as soon as I was able I went to the Ministry to help bring down the last of Vondemort's empire," his eyes never left Harry as he spoke, "Your turn," he said evenly.

Harry sighed again, and looked down at his hands, "I watched your memories. You loved her deeply didn't you?" he asked. When Snape nodded his head, he continued, "I went into the forest to let him kill me, and…" his teeth sank into his lip, what came after was hazy. He could remember his death as clearly as the night it happened, but after, in the time before he had returned to the living there was nothing but a bit of half remembered conversation and whiteness, "When I woke Voldemort sent one of his Death Eaters to make sure I was dead. It was Mallfoy's mother, and she lied and said I was dead. They took me back to the castle, and I killed him," he could still hear the broken cries of his supporters, his friends when they saw what looked like his body. He could still hear their screams as the battle broke out again, this time in the favor of the Death Eaters. He scrubbed his face hard with both hands; he didn't want to think about that right now.

Snape nodded, "And the nightmares?" he persisted. When Harry simply shook his head, he gave him a sorrowful look, "I understand if you don't trust me enough to talk about that, but talk to someone. It will help."

"You said there was something we needed to talk about," Harry snapped, his anger rising. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

"Yes," he murmured, "I know this may be difficult to hear…" he stood and went over to the boy who was his only connection with the former love of his life, and knelt so that they were at eye level, "Dumbledore wasn't the man you think he was…" the look in Snape's eyes was pained.

Harry stiffened, his eyes filling with glistening with anger. _He knew._ The thought drifted through his mind, driving out anything else.

Snape frowned, "I understand that hearing that would anger you. You looked up to the man as if he were your father, but, Harry, he lied to you… There was no prophecy… I'm sorry you have to hear it this way, but-"

"How long did you know?" Harry interrupted his voice deadly quiet.

"The entire time, I wanted to tell you, but he wouldn't allow it," Snape's voice had taken on a desperate tone, wanting him to understand.

Harry stood, preparing to leave, "I see," his voice was cold, his eyes filled with an anger hot enough to burn, "I need to go," he said simply, and was out the door before Snape could say another word.

Harry stormed down the hall. Snape had known. Granted he wasn't someone that Harry had trusted, but he had still known, and said nothing. He let out a groan of frustration, and moved faster, flying up the stairs in a rage. He couldn't believe this; he had actually believed that Snape had cared for him, and now he found out that he had known about lie that surrounded Harry's life.

He couldn't breathe past the anger in his chest. To have confirmation that the journal had not been some trick was too much for him to take. He stumbled slightly as he reached the top of the fourth floor, his eyes hazing over. Harry blinked to try and clear it, but it only made it worse. It was as if somebody had suddenly flipped a switch, and his mind went blank.

_Back in Snape's office_

Snape sat down at his desk, running a hand through his greying hair. It could have gone better, he supposed. He should have told Potter in a different way. He had known of Dumbledore's plan, but had been forbidden to say anything about it. A hex saw that he kept to his orders. He hated himself every day for what they had done, all in the name of ending the war. The only thing he did not known about was the circumstances surrounding the Potter's deaths. The fury in Harry's eyes had been understandable. He had known that he had loved Dumbledore, had trusted him, and hearing that he was someone else entirely must have crushed him. He had never seen anyone so angry.

No sooner than the thought crossed his mind, did he feel a slight tingling in his wrist. Snape gasped, and looked down at the dark brand that took up his right wrist, "No," he breathed. It wasn't possible. His Dark Mark had not reacted since Voldemort's death, where it had burned as if it had been set aflame. He had started to discount it as nothing more than his imagination, when the door burst open.

Malfoy, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide with shock, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants burst in, his hand covering his mark, "You felt it too," he gasped, as if he had sprinted all the way there.

Snape nodded, and looked his godson over, his eyes lingering on the scars that crossed his bare chest, some of them quite fresh.

"It could be nothing right?" he demanded, his eyes filled with hope and fear.

"I…I don't know…" Snape said slowly, "It was only a tingle, so it's likely, but…" he looked into the boy's eyes, "I don't know. I just don't know."

_**Thank you for reading everyone. I'm sorry if it's not that good, but it's late and I'm tired, and I wasn't sure how to end it. Be considerate in your comments. If it's bad tell me in a nice way. Thank you all for your support and the next chapter will back track a little bit and show what Draco was up to during the meeting between Harry and Snape. Please tell me your thoughts!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	8. Old Memories

_**Hello Everyone,**_

_**Thank you all for reading and I'm sorry I haven't posted. I had a paper to write and it took me forever! Housekeeping time! SophieAngel69: Thank you so much for pointing out my mistakes, it wasn't an offence and I am glad you did it. Snape and Harry are going to work things out, but it, like Harry and Draco coming together, is going to take some time to develop. Also, there isn't going to be a rehash of the last book, there will be no battle. That's all I can say without giving away too much. Redmystique: You are awesome, thank you for your kind words, you honor me. Please review and tell me what you think. I love hearing from you all, so even if it's just "Good" or "Bad" that is enough for me. As I said before, I'm going back a little bit in time to focus on Draco.**_

_**I Don't Own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Seven: Old Memories**

**Draco's POV**

"So,"Snape began, grabbing a blanket form the cupboard in the corner and draping it over his Godson's shoulders, "How the hell did you get those scars?" Draco could see the concern in Snape's eyes.

"Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?" he offered, pulling the blanket tighter around him, and accepting the cup of tea that was offered.

Snape sneered slightly, "Don't treat me like a fool Draco. I've known you since the day you were born, so I know you are lying to me."

Draco sighed, and sipped his tea, it was his favorite, honey and vanilla, "My father isn't happy about the way I acted after the war," he said finally, not looking at him, "He thought it would be best if he reminded me over and over what it was like to be in our Master's service." The look on Snapes face was furious, "It's not that bad," Malfoy said softly, "At least it's not the worst thing I've been through."

Snape shook his head, and plucked a small vial from the shelf to his right, "Drink," he said, handing it over, "It will heal the last of the wounds. It won't take away the scaring but it's the best I can do since it's been so long."

Draco nodded his thanks and downed the vile in one shot, grimacing as it burned its way down, "Thank you," he whispered, "But really, I've had worse." His fingers went again to the mark on his wrist. They had decided just to ignore the tingle; there was no way He was back.

"Yes I know," Snape's voice was soft, thoughtful, remembering, "So how was your day?" he asked suddenly, banishing the memories of his time with Voldemort.

Draco grimaced again, "Terrible," he sat back, letting the memories of his first day back come to the front of his mind, "Who would have thought that people aren't too fond of Death Eaters," Draco laughed bitterly.

"Tell me about it?" Snape offered, phrasing it as a question.

Malfoy sighed deeply, "Well…"

...

By the time potions was finished, Malfoy was convinced that he was going to be ignored for the most part. After their conversation, Potter had taken back to not talking to him, and no one else had bothered to say a word to him. He had thought, hoped really, that he would be left alone, save for the glares he received, but he could handle that. He had been wrong.

"So, how was Azkaban?" someone called the moment he stepped from the classroom.

Draco gritted his teeth, but said nothing.

"Rumor has it that you were sent to Azkaban," the boy continued.

Draco simply sneered, saying nothing as he started down the hall. He was not going to be bated into doing something stupid on his first day back. He had, in fact, spent three months in Azkaban while the Ministry had sorted out his case. It had been the second hardest time of his life. The first had been his Recruitment. Malfoy winced at the memories.

The rest of the day was much of the same. Other than the professor, he was the only former Death Eater that had returned to the school, and the student's knew that. Malfoy could hear the murmurs that followed him everywhere he went.

"_I can't believe that let _that_ return…"_

"_I heard the entire Malfoy family was rounded up and sent to Azkaban…"_

And the worse, _"Look, you can see his Mark!"_

There was one point in time, that those comments would have come from his mouth; there was a time when the school had been his, and the Malfoy name had been spoken with awe and fear. Losing the war had changed that. Worse, perhaps, what the fact that, while the students hated him, his family was just as resentful. His mother was the only one that had understood. She had told him about her part in getting Potter back to the battlefield. She had saved Potter's life by lying to the Dark Lord.

Draco skipped dinner; he didn't think he could handle being called a Death Eater again. He changed quickly into a pair of sweatpants. He climbed into his bed, shutting the curtains firmly against the only other person in the room. He had been a bit surprised that, among the seventh years that were left there were only three in his dormitory. Himself, Duncan Rodick, and James Criner. He had not spoken to either of them in his life. For the first time since he had returned home after the war, he felt lonely.

Malfoy sighed, and curled up in his bed. He had been a king in this school; no one would have dared insult him, except for maybe the Gryffindors. Malfoy sighed, and shifted his weight. He had made his choice; there was no one who could have made it for him. He had chosen to follow in his parent's footsteps; he had chosen to make up for his father's mistakes, going willingly to kneel at the feet of Lord Voldemort.

He felt a twinge of pain in his back at that thought. His former Master had always "tested" his willing followers the hardest. Malfoy buried his face in his pillow; he didn't want to think about that right now. He forced his mind to clear, and his body to relax. His mind was just hazing over with the first stages of sleep when a tingle shot up his arm.

Malfoy jerked up, looking in horror at his wrist. The sensation centered at his Mark. His heart raced in his chest, and Malfoy leaped to his feet, ignoring the confused look his dorm mate gave him, and was down the stairs and out of the common room before he even realized he was moving. He went immediately to his godfather's office, throwing the door open without knocking, his eyes wide with fear…

...

Malfoy finished off his tea, watching the other man as he processed his recount of the day.

Snape shook his head, and took the cup from Draco, setting it aside, "You should have come to me."

"And what? Tell you that students are being mean to me because I tried to kill their families," Draco rolled his eyes, and stood to leave, "It was to be expected. I made my choices so I'm going to take the heat." He turned to go.

"One more thing," Snape said, "Mister Potter," he paused, "I think you should befriend him," he said simply, "He needs someone he can trust."

Malfoy nodded once, a gesture that could mean anything and nothing, before leaving and going back to his bed.

_**Thanks for reading Everyone! I'm sorry if it's not that good… I'm not really feeling it right now… but never fear, I'll continue on, hopefully having chapters up quicker. Leave your thoughts in a comment please! The next few chapters will be Draco attempting to befriend Harry, and then Halloween that I have something cooked up for. Thank you all for your continued support! I love you all!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	9. Good Intentions

_**Hello Everyone**_

_**I'm glad to see the number of views I'm getting. I never expected this fanfic to be read by so many people. I know the number seems small (at this point its barley cracked 3000) but to a small time amateur of a writer, it's an honor. As always, please point out any mistakes you see, and give me a review *gets on knees and begs* please review! The more reviews I get the faster I'll post. Anyway, as promised, I'm going to start developing Harry and Draco's relationship for the next few chapters and then take things to the next level. **_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Eight: Good Intentions**

**Harry's POV**

The first thing Harry became aware of when he opened his eyes was that he was lying on his bed with no recollection of how it got there. He groaned, reaching up to rub his forehead, his fingers lingering on his scar where the pain was the worse. He sat up slowly and looked around the room, rubbing his scar again. As if realizing what the gesture meant, Harry froze. His scar was burning. It had been dead for more than a year, and now it was burning.

Harry felt his heart speed up. There was no way his scar was burning because of Him. He was dead; Harry had seen to that. The pain was already fading, and Harry decided that it was nothing more than a combination of his anger and being back at the school. He also reasoned that it was why he could not remember returning to his room. It was stress and nothing more.

Harry climbed from bed, and cast Tempus. "Shit…" he groaned and changed quickly. He had already missed breakfast, and if he didn't move quickly, he would be late. Harry threw on the first thing his hands touched, and half ran down the stairs, running his fingers through his unruly hair in an attempt to straighten it as he did.

He was the last person to enter the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, late by a minute.

"So good of you to join us Mister Potter," Snape said coolly, "Just because you are the Savior does not mean you can be late to my class. Take your seat," he pointed to the only available seat next to Malfoy.

Harry felt the first stirrings of the anger he had felt towards the Professor the night before. He glared at him, but went to the seat. He sat without looking at the other boy, his eyes still locked on the Professor.

"This year we will be leaning new spells and theories, and practicing them every Friday," Snape looked at each student, commanding silence and respect as he had since the first moment Harry stepped into his potions class seven years ago, "Our first lesson will be on Non-verbal and wandless spells. Turn to page 562 of your books and begin reading on the subject. I expect you will all take notes on the subject, we will have a discussion on it next class."

There was the whisper of pages as the class collectively opened their books, and to begin reading. Harry sighed, he knew this already. It had been a necessity that he learn it; during the war he had learned anything that would give him an edge. He was resigned to stare blankly at the page until Snape called time, but it seemed the boy sitting next to him had other ideas.

"You know," Malfoy began softly, not even bothering to open his book, "If you really can't sleep, they have potions for that."

Harry sighed heavily, "What is with everyone and how well I sleep," he grumbled.

**Draco's POV**

"Angry as always," Malfoy mused, "You know you should really think about doing something about that," He smirked, still watching Harry, "I mean I know as well as the next person what anger can do to you."

Harry sighed again, and glared at the book, not looking at him. Draco sighed; this was going to be harder than he thought. He was trying to comply do as Snape had asked and talk to Harry, but the other boy was making it difficult.

_He's so different now; _Malfoy thought sadly, _Potter was never this bitter. _Something big must have happened, he realized. It was common knowledge that Harry had been in every major battle since the Battle for Hogwarts, but this was deeper than that."

"Or," his voice grew softer, "Perhaps rather than having it looked at you could talk to someone about it."

"Oh," Harry snapped, turning his heated gaze him, "And are you offering Malfoy."

"Actually, I am. Like I said potter, I know what it's like to not be able to talk to anyone," he paused, hesitating, "It's not as if I don't know what you're going through."

That did it, he could see it in Harry's eyes that he had said something wrong, "You know what I'm going through?" there was anger there, and his voice was rising, drawing attention to them, "No one had any fucking idea what I'm going through," he snarled. Something flickered in his eyes, something Draco recognized, but couldn't place.

"Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy," Snape snapped, effectively cutting off whatever Draco was about to say, "Ten points from each of your houses, and I want to see you both after class to discuss the consequences of interrupting my class." With that said, he went back to the papers he was looking over, assured that they would not be interrupting again.

Malfoy frowned, wondering what he was up to. The Professor would not call them out without reason. Pondering this, Draco turned back to Potter. He was facing away from him, his shoulders tight, a scowl on his face. Malfoy sighed, "I'm sorry," he murmured, so softly that he couldn't be sure that Potter had heard it, "but the offer is still open." Without another word, he turned to the book to pretend to read the information he had already mastered.

**Snape's POV**

"I'm disappointed in both of you," Severus said coolly, keeping up the image he had built over the years, "Not that I didn't expect as much from you Potter.

Harry simply glared at him, "I aim to please," he hissed.

Severus sighed, "I believe a month's detention is appropriate," He simply raised his hand, cutting off Draco's protests, "I will to see you both tonight in my office for your detention," he said simply. This was his best chance at pushing the boy's together. They needed each other, more so than either of them realized. They had both been through their own versions of hell, and each was perhaps the only person that could help the other. "That is all," he said in dismissal, ignoring the confused look his godson gave him, and the hatred in Harry's eyes.

He watched as they left, and shook his head, sinking into his chair. Potter was going to be a handful. It was clear that he already discovered he had been used, and the fact that Severus had known only made things worse. Harry had seen him as a hero when he had gone into his memories. He had risked his life to spy for the light and keep Harry safe. His revelation that he had known about Dumbledore's manipulation, was enough to crush what little respect the boy had had left. Severus understood that, and he was going to do everything in his power to make the Boy Who Lived listen to him. With another heavy sigh, Severus turned back to his work to prepare for his next class.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I don't really have much to say here, so I'll just state that chapters will come faster the more reviews I get, so please, please review. The next chapter will consist of the couple's detention, and will bring them closer. **_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	10. Detention

_**Hello **__**Everyone**_

_**Thank you all for reading. I'm glad to have an increase in reviews lately, please keep it up. As I said before, I will post faster if I get more reviews. Thank you all for pointing out that I had misspelled "detention;" I had not realized that the autocorrect on my word processor had changed it. Redmystique: I'm glad you like the idea of Snape pushing them together. Crystal Bruner: I love that you're curious; it means I'm doing my job right :-). This chapter will consist of the boy's first detention, and will serve to bring them closer, and maybe open up some of the old wounds that they both have.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Nine: Detention**

**Draco's POV**

"What are you planning?" Draco demanded. He had gotten to the Professor's office before Potter so he had a chance to talk to his godfather.

Snape raised his eyebrows the faintest hints of a smirk on his lips, "I'm positive I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have never given me detention. And a month of it for talking in class is excessive, even for you."

Again a smirk, "You both _were_ being quite disruptive," his eyes twinkled with amusement, only irritating Draco farther, "Do you trust me Draco?" he asked, suddenly serious.

"Of course," he said without hesitation, "With my life."

"Do you trust that I know what I'm doing? That I would never do anything without reason?" he continued.

"Yes, but-"

"Even if you don't know what that reason is?" Snape interrupted.

"Yes," his voice was strained with frustration.

"Then trust that I gave you detention for a reason, and accept your punishment," he concluded just as the door opened. "Good evening Mister Potter," he said, watching as the child entered.

His eyes were empty, Draco observed, holding none of the anger that was in them before, but no joy or passion either. Draco frowned slightly. He found himself again wondering what had happened to change him so much.

Harry moved to stand beside him, waiting for their instructions.

"I'm sure you Potter remember organizing the records of punishment in your sixth year?" Draco felt Harry stiffen beside him, "I figured that would be a fitting punishment," he gave a small, pleased smile, "Who knows, you may finish this time." He pointed to the boxes that were stacked in the corner, "You may begin."

**Harry's POV**

With a small sigh, the two set to work. They each grabbed a box, and began the tedious task of sorting. Harry was surprised to find that the files had made it through the battle, though it seemed in the rebuilding, they had been mixed up again. He recognized some of the names, and could place them easily, while others were unfamiliar. Waffling, Wespurt, Wheetom, Wimble the names ran together, until his eyes were sore.

With a sigh, Harry glanced up at the clock, to find that an hour had barely passed. He sighed again, and looked over at the desk, to see that the Professor had gone. He glanced over at the other boy, to find that he was half hidden behind a stack of yellowed parchment. His hair was ruffled, falling over his forehead. Harry watched as every few seconds he brushed it absently from his eyes, mumbling something under his breath each time. He looked so focused on his work, treating it with the same single-mindedness that Hermione had always treated her studies.

"I don't like it," he said softly, after a few moments of watching him.

Malfoy looked up, frowning in confusion, "Huh?"

"You suggested earlier that I take something to help me sleep. I don't because I don't like to," he hesitated, "It means I can't wake up if I need to."

Malfoy nodded slowly, and sat back against the wall, setting aside the paper in his hands, "And you have problems about that?" he asked.

"When I was with the Dursley's I would always had to be ready to be up and awake at a moment's notice or," he hesitated again, looking away, "Or things got bad."

"Bad as in?" Draco pried slightly.

Harry simply shook his head, he didn't want to talk about the beatings he would get if he didn't move fast enough, "And then when war broke out, I always had to be ready to move, or to fight. If I wasn't I could very well end up dead. I don't like not being able to wake up," he finished. All of it was said with the hesitation of someone who was afraid of rejection.

Malfoy nodded, "Believe it or not, I understand that. When… when the Dark Lord took over my family's home, it wasn't uncommon for him to collect someone for punishment in the middle of the night," his eyes were distant, pained, "If you didn't wake up in time to beg for forgiveness then you could find yourself somewhere you defiantly didn't want to be."

He met Harry's gaze, absently chewing on his lip, "That sounds terrible," Harry replied, "How did you handle that?"

"I made sure I was awake. Sometimes I would be so afraid that I wouldn't sleep for days, until I finally collapsed from exhaustion," he laughed bitterly, "The funny part is every single time that happened I would wake up in one of the basement cells," he shook his head as if to clear it, "What about you?"

"There was one time, I was nine or ten, it was before I found out I was a wizard, and I had been up all night trying to get some homework done because I didn't get to do it after school because I had to clean out the attic again. It was after they had locked me in my cupboard," he paused at Malfoy's disbelieving look.

"You were locked in a cupboard?" he asked as if he didn't quite believe that someone could do that to a child.

Harry nodded before continuing, "Anyway, it was so late by the time I was finished, and I was so tired. I wasn't awake when they came to get me," his breath came out in one long shaky sigh, "I'm sure I still have the scar from my uncle's belt," he closed his eyes and drew his knees up to his chest, "I never made that mistake again."

He hadn't heard Malfoy move, but he felt the warm press of him against his side, each silently giving comfort to the other through that simple touch.

**Snape's POV**

The boys were still in that position when Snape returned an hour later. He had heard everything. He had been right in his assumption that by stepping out of the room they would begin talking. And talk they did. Draco's story he had already known because he himself had faced the Dark Lord's madness. Of Harry's he had, had no idea. The muggles Dumbledore had sent him with had been awful, he had figured that much by the way Lily had been treated by her sister, but treating an innocent child like that was beyond forgivable.

He watched the two for a moment, both of them in the same position: knees drawn up to their chest, head down, eyes closed, and leaning against the other for support. Snape smiled sadly, it was both sweet and heartbreaking at the same time. He cleared his throat, and almost laughed as the boys scrambled to get away from each other, and make it look as if they had been working.

"Since you decided to sit around doing nothing while I stepped out to send an owl, I will see you both here tomorrow evening to finish what you started," he kept his voce as soft and collected as it always was. He absently waved his wand, placing the papers in boxes without disrupting the sorting, "You are dismissed."

He watched as they picked themselves up, not looking at each other, leaving in silence. He was sure that this night had pushed them a little closer towards friendship. They had both had hurt so badly throughout the years, and it took someone that understood to heal them. He had a soft spot for children of abuse; his own father had been a heartless drunk of a bastard. He suddenly hated the former Headmaster more than he ever had. Surely he had known what they were doing to him, and yet he had forced him to remain there.

_I'm going to help them both, _he vowed silently, _If it's the last thing I do._

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I hope you enjoyed it, but I don't know, so please don't forget to review and tell me what you think. Then next chapter will either time skip to a few days later, or Halloween, it all depends on what my muse wants, when I sit down to write. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!**_

_**With love to all of my wonderful reader,**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	11. Halloween

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**My muse is nearly screaming in my ear to write; I can't seem to sit still. It's like I've consumed three cups of coffee without breakfast. I feel jittery and have the most unbearable urge to write. So that's what I'm going to do. It's almost eleven at night here in the eastern part of the United States, and if you knew me, you'd know that I start feeling sleepy at nine-ish. I only include that to put in perspective how badly I need to write. Anyway, I'm going to do another chapter, and hopefully have it up before midnight. Crystal Bruner: I have a feeling you're going to like what happens in this chapter ;-). hPdC: I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I'm sorry for the shortness, it's just how I write. I try and get out chapters as quick as I can, so I make the chapters short to prevent myself from getting burned out. I average about 1500 words on any given day, but I can pull as much as 3000 if it's a good day. Anyway, because my muse is singing, I'm going to do a little bit of a conversation with Draco and Snape, and then Harry and Snape, and also Halloween. Enjoy everyone!**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Ten: Halloween**

**Harry's POV**

The weeks continued like that for the rest of the month. He and Draco would have classes, and go to detention right after, where they would sort for a bit, and then talk. It was mostly about school, and classes, the new professor, and how the school hadn't changed. They kept the topics light, and neutral. They had yet to have another conversation like the one they had that first night, but it seemed that shared experience had created a sort of fragile friendship. It was a few days before Halloween before their detentions were finished, and the castle looked splendid. There seemed to be more decorations than normal; there wasn't a corner of the castle that was not decorated for the season.

It was the peace, Harry decided as he made his way down to the dungeons. This place had seen war and death and pain, and now there was peace. It only made sense for them to go over the top. Harry reached the tapestry that guarded Snape's door, doing his best to ignore the battle that was waged on the cloth. It was the only thing in the entire school that still held to the memory of the blood that was spilled here. Harry watched as a miniature version of him leapt up and began the slow battle with a miniature Voldemort. He watched as in less than thirty seconds a small flash of light appeared on the cloth, and the mini Voldemort fell over, dead.

_Strange… I remember it being much longer than that…_ Harry thought, as he watched the scene play over again. He stood there a few moments longer, slowly becoming aware of the shaking that had started in his limbs. His chest tightened painfully; he could hardly breathe past the lump in his throat. A low helpless sound pulled from his lips as he watched the scene play over and over. With a cry, he shoved the tapestry aside, and tapped the appropriate bricks with the wand he hadn't even realized he had drawn. The moment he stepped into the short hallway that separated Snape's office from the door, he felt better, his head felt clearer. He was glad there had been no one to see the fit he had just experienced in the corridor. That was all he needed; someone spreading around the school that their Savior was losing his mind.

Harry knocked lightly on the door before opening it, "You wanted to see me," his voice wasn't as steady as he had hoped it would be. They had finished their detention the day before, but the Professor had insisted that Harry come see him the next evening.

"Yes, come in. Please have a seat," he motioned to the seat across from him, not looking up from his book.

Harry had found it difficult to hold on to the anger he had felt towards the other man. He had after all played a part in keeping Harry alive, putting his own in danger. He was still upset, and didn't know if he could forgive the man for what he had done, but he was no longer angry.

"We need to talk Potter," Snape began suddenly, closing his book with a snap, and turning his attention to Harry, "Can I get you some tea?" he offered, when Harry nodded, he stood and went to where the water boiled, poring them each a cup. "I wanted to continue the conversation we began before," he said, his back still to Harry, "If I remember correctly, you stormed out of here before we could finish," he turned back him and handed him a small white cup filled with strong smelling tea.

Harry took a sip, letting to warmth sink into him, feeling steadier than he had since, well ever. He felt truly relaxed, whole, and, "What the hell did you put in this," he said, his voice lacking the malice that his words suggested.

"Something to make sure that you stay and listen," Snape said simply, taking a sip of his own tea, "Don't worry the effects are only temporary, you'll be your usual hot-headed self in a few hours, but in the meantime we will talk."

"I never through you would actually poison me. You've threatened to in the past, but I never thought you were serious," he murmured. He was going to be pissed about this later, but for now, all he felt was peace.

Snape couldn't help but smile, "At least I'm not trying to kill you. We needed to talk and this was the only way I could insure that you would not storm off again," he paused, giving Harry a chance to speak if he wanted. When he said nothing, he continued, "When we spoke last, we were talking about Dumbledore," he could see Harry struggling against the grips of the potion, but to no avail, "I told you about his deception, and that I had known about it," another pause, "I knew the moment Lil- your mother died that the prophecy was a lie. Dumbledore told me that night I came to his office; he told me to make sure that her sacrifice was not in vain," he let out a shaky breath, and stared at the silent teen, "I swear to you, Potter… Harry, that had I known that Lily would die, I would have let the Dark Lord tear me limb from limb with a smile rather than tell him."

Harry said nothing for a long moment, he simply watched the man who had loved his mother, "Why didn't you tell me," he voice was calm, and soothing, understanding even, the exact opposite of what he should be feeling.

"He wouldn't let me. He made me swear an Unbreakable Vow that I would not say a word to you or anyone else about what I knew."

Harry nodded slowly, "What else did you know." He had to know if he had known about his parent's death, or his assigned "friends."

"Nothing," he whispered, defeated, and Harry believed him.

Again he nodded; _He doesn't know about the journal, he doesn't know how much of a bastard Dumbledore was… And I'm going to keep it that way for now._ Harry drained the rest of his cup, actually enjoying the calming feel the potion was giving him, "Thank you," he said with real feeling, "I can't believe I'm thanking you for poisoning me, but I have heard you out." It felt good to know that the man he had developed respect for had not been completely in one the lie that was his life.

Snape's eyes shown, "Thank you Harry. I'm glad that I have your trust, however slim and fragile it may be,"

"I never said I trusted you," Harry said crudely, "I'm having problems trusting anyone right now."

Snape looked as if he wanted to say more, but a knock on his door interrupted him.

"Sir?" Draco asked, stepping partially into the room, "I need to talk to you," his gaze flickered to Harry and his cheeks reddened slightly.

"Of course, Mister Potter and I were just finishing up."

Harry stood to leave, and looked levelly at the Professor, "Just one more thing. If you ever slip something into my drink again, without my knowledge, I will kill you for it," his voice was still calm, but the threat was clear. Harry smiled slightly at Draco as he passed him, "I suppose I'll see you in potions tomorrow morning?" He smile broadened when Draco nodded, before he left.

**Draco's POV**

"What was that about?" he demanded, taking the seat Potter had just vacated.

Snape shook his head, "Damage control. Was there something you needed?" he asked, going to get another cup of tea, this one without the calming potion.

"Yes," he waited for Snape to sit before continuing, "I know what you're doing."

"Oh?" he smiled slightly, and what is it that I'm doing?"

"You forget that I've known you my entire life; I know you better than you'd like to admit," He leaned forward, "I know you have been pushing Harry and I together every chance you get."

It had to be true. Snape had given them a month of detention for talking in class in which he left them alone together for hours at a time. Every time they were in pares during his lessons, he would always make sure he and Harry was together. He was doing it on purpose, but for the life of him he could not figure out why. When he voiced all of this to his godfather, Snape simply smiled knowingly.

"You have it all figured out then," he said laughing softly, "Now what are you going to do about it?"

"Well…" Draco blushed again slightly, "Nothing actually. I only brought it up to have it confirmed."

"What are your feelings towards Potter?" he asked, not missing the red that colored his cheeks.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, keeping his face perfectly blank. It was a useful trick he had developed during the war.

"There you go trying to lie to me again," he openly laughed this time, "You know a few drops of Veritaserum and I'm positive you would tell me."

"You wouldn't," Draco said horrified. Snape shrugged, saying nothing, "I just… Like being around Harry, we've got quite a bit in common…" his face colored for third time that night.

Snape gave him a knowing smile, but still said nothing.

"I'm not… you know," he sighed in defeat. He had faced off against wizards twice his ability, and had been tortured nearly to death without the slightest hint of nerves, but at the slightest hint that he may have feelings for someone (_not that I have feelings for Potter, _He told himself firmly), and he could hardly speak.

"Of course not," Snape said, his eyes filled with endless patience.

"But if I was…? If I did have feelings for…" Draco asked softly, his words hardly legible.

"Then I would tell you to tell him before someone else decides that they too have feelings for him."

"But what if he doesn't feel the same?" Draco felt his temper rising. He wasn't use to feeling insecure; he had never had this problem before.

"He does," was all Snape said, "If that is all Mister Malfoy, it is way past curfew, and I'm sure the penalty for you being out of bed will be steeper than any other," he walked Draco to the door, "Goodnight Draco," he said softly, before closing the door behind him.

**Harry's POV**

The party was in full swing by the time Harry arrived. Because of this being the first year with the "new" school, the Headmistress had decided to break the tradition of a simple feast and throw an all-out party. He hated parties, the last one he had been to was the Yule Ball and that had been miserable. This was undoubtedly worse. He had only been a little famous then, and still every girl begged for him to dance. Now he was the conqueror of the dark, and women were all but throwing themselves at him for his attention.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought all interest to the front of the Great Hall, "Welcome everyone," Headmistress McGonagall's voice carried over the hall, effectively silencing everyone, "I am overjoyed to see you all here in celebration. A celebration that would not have been possible had it not been for the brave warriors that fought and died to defend this school," Harry stiffened, he had a feeling that he wouldn't like where this was going, "The war is over, the Dark Lord is dead, no sacrifice made here was made in vain, and we have one of our own to thank for that."

_No…Please don't do this to me… _Harry thought desperately.

"I would ask you all to give Mister Harry James Potter a round of applau-" the rest of her sentence was drowned out by the cheers of his fellow students. Every eye was on him, so he forced his lips to curl into a smile, while his eyes remained tense.

He hated this attention. He had hated it when he had first stepped into the wizarding world, and everyone had known his name, and he sure as hell hated it now that he was a hero. All he had wanted was to be normal, anonymous but from the moment he had survived an attack from the most powerful wizard in existence, his had become a "household" name. He was sure that his fame would have faded, but every single year, something had happened that threw him into the spotlight. Be it the sorcerous stone, or the Triwizard tournament, his name was always in the papers. And it was almost all Dumbledore's fault. Every event that had pushed him towards Voldemort had been a carefully orchestrated plot to lead him into war. Nothing that had happened to him had been chance.

Harry caught Snape's eye, and received a sympathetic look.

"Harry!" Ginny called, approaching him with a bright smile, "You have to dance with me!"

He groaned inwardly. His former group of friends had all but ignored him for the past few weeks, and he had foolishly expected that he was rid of them. He shook his head, not bothering to say anything.

"But Harry! Everyone's watching!" she pleaded, grabbing his hand as he turned away.

He started to tell her no, but Malfoy beat him to it, "I don't think he feels like dancing with you," he said coolly, moving to stand close to Harry. Ginny glared at him, but slowly let go of Harry's hand.

"Maybe later," she murmured, obviously uncomfortable with Draco standing so close.

Harry sighed in relief, and turned to look at his new friend, Thank-" he began, before all thought vanished from his mind. Draco looked amazing, he wore dress robes of the darkest green, setting off his silver eyes, and making his hair glow. The robes were cut perfectly, showing off the cut of Draco's body. Harry blinked slowly, trying to clear his head, he hadn't realized he had been staring until Draco spoke.

"You know I know how to get them to leave you alone," Malfoy said, a sly smirk on his lips.

**Draco's POV**

He couldn't help but smirk when he saw the look on Harry's face. If he had need confirmation of the fact that Harry wanted him, he didn't need it now. He had hoped to get a reaction out of him, but this was more than he was expecting; his friend looked truly stunned.

He had known, from the moment he had stepped into the Great Hall, that Potter was going to be miserable, he had discovered in one of their many talks that Harry hated his fame, and as a result crowds. To make matters worse the Headmistress's recognition was enough to turn his discomfort into pure hell. He had done the only thing he could have: rescue his friend. It was still strange for him to think the he and Potter were now friends, seeing that they were rivals for most of the time they had known each other.

"I would do almost anything to get them to leave me alone," Harry admitted with a smile, "So if you've got an idea, then please share."

Draco laughed, "Remember you said that." He could feel eyes on them still, and he knew they were talking, wondering why a Death Eater was talking to their hero. They had only being seen them being civil if they weren't ignoring each other all together. They had yet to actually been seen in public as friends. He laughed again, if they thought that was bad, they were going to hate this.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

"Not even a little bit," Harry said, laughing. He trusted him as much as he could, which admittedly wasn't much.

"Then trust me for about thirty seconds." He stepped forward, so that they were standing as close as they could without actually touching. He saw Harry stiffen, and start to back away. Without warning, Draco curled his fingers into the front of Harry's robes with one hand, while lifting his chin with the other. Jerking Harry towards him, he kissed him, hard.

He could feel the tension in his body as he pressed his lips to his own. Time slowed, it felt as if an eternity had passed (though Draco was sure it had only been a few seconds), before he felt hands press to his upper arms. They lingered there for a moment, hardly more than two seconds before suddenly, almost violently pushing him away.

He was surprised; he had been expected to be pushed away immediately. The kiss had lasted about fifteen seconds, and it wasn't anger that he saw in Harry's eyes; it was confusion. He could hear the angry roar of the crowd around them, but it didn't matter at the moment. The two stared at each other for what felt like days, weeks even, though to the rest of the world it was only a fraction of a second. Draco was sure he was going to get punched or hexed, but nothing happened. He stepped smoothly back from Harry as if there wasn't an entire school that suddenly wanted his head, as if he hadn't just kissed the savior of the magical world, and smirked. Saying nothing, he turned away, and made his exit, his head held high, deaf to the outrage that followed him.

_**Thank you for reading everyone! Unfortunately I didn't get this up last night, but here it is. I'm hoping to get so reviews for this chapter, so if you have an opinion at all, state it loud and clear. I hope you liked this chapter; it's the longest one I've written so far! The next one will be the next time Harry and Draco see each other, and probably some of the opinions of the other students (told in a third person omniscient POV). I love you all!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	12. It Never Happened

_**Hello Everyone**_

_**My muse is still singing, so I'm going to keep writing. I can't seem to stop writing this. I'm also thinking of taking on another fanfic. It's going to be another "aftermath" but if Voldemort had won the Battle for Hogwarts. Either that or something to do with Italy and Germany during World War 2, if you've seen Hetalia you know what I'm talking about, if you haven't you need to, it's the second best anime ever. What do you think? Send me a PM or review telling me. As always redmystique: You are the best! You're comments are so sweet, and you seem to be really enjoying this fanfic. SophieAngel69: you are always so honest, and I love that. You have a point about the Headmistress, so I may look into changing it. Crystal Bruner: I thought you would like that. This chapter is going to be shorter than the last; it's going to consist of a sort of backlash for Draco's actions. I hope you enjoy reading this fanfic as much as I do writing it!**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Eleven: It Never Happened**

_Hufflepuff Common Room. _

"You should have been there Rache! Did you hear about what happened yet?"

"No. What?"

"Draco Malfoy kissed Harry Potter!"

"You're kidding. Please tell me you're not serious, Ariel."

"No, I was there too, he really kissed him. On the lips. For a good twenty seconds!"

"What did he do?"

"Nothing, can you believe it. He didn't even seem upset."

"Would you be? For a Death Eater, the Malfoy boy isn't bad looking."

"Ugh! Rache he's a Death Eater. Haven't you seen his mark? He would slaughter a Mudblood like you in an instant!"

"Don't call her a Mudblood."

"She knows I don't mean it Lin. I'm just trying to explain to her how the Malfoy's think."

"I heard he was in Azkaban before he betrayed the other Death Eaters. I heard he told the Ministry everything he knew."

"Wistful thinking Rache. Do you have any idea who his father is? Do you actually think he would have anything to do what anyone that wasn't a Pureblood."

"No, but-"

"I wonder what he was doing killing Harry then. I mean he was raised by muggles, and his mother was a Muggle-born. It says so Rita Skeeter's book."

"Maybe it's some kind of attempt to hurt him?"

"I don't think so."

"And what would you know Loon- I mean Luna?"

"I think he likes him."

"But he's a Death Eater! He can't like Harry Potter."

"I think he's changed. I can see his aura. It's not as dark as it used to be. It's pale and broken."

"She really is loony."

"Shh Ariel, at least wait until she's out of the room."

"Anyway, I think something needs to be done about Malfoy. He shouldn't be allowed to openly attack Harry Potter like that. Who does he think he is?"

"I don't know. Listen guys, I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

"Me too."

"Fine, I'll see you guys in the morning."

"Good night Ariel."

"Night."

**Draco's POV**

He couldn't help but snort into his juice as yet another girl sent him a death look. This was more fun than he thought it would be. Draco plucked a grape from the bowl and chewed it absently. The rest of the Slytherins were ignoring him, as they had since the beginning of the year. It was almost as if they were afraid he would corrupt them if they did more than treat him like he wasn't there. He preferred it that way, for the most part. It was the rest of the houses that had a problem.

He glanced to the Gryffindor table, but Harry wasn't there. That wasn't uncommon; he was usually late, but Draco had a sinking feeling it was because of him. Nerves hadn't hit him until that fragile moment when sleep was only seconds away. '_I made a mistake…_' The thought was fleeting, and quickly crushed by the nightly flood of nightmares, but it was the first think that crossed his mind when he opened his eyes the morning after. He felt the first tendrils of fear take root in the pit of his stomach as he scanned the table again. He counted several looks of hatred, but not Harry.

He let out a long breath and fought the urge to run his fingers through his hair. His mother always hated when he did that, and it was an obvious sign of anxiety. He hated anything so transparent. With a defeated sigh, Draco stood, resigned that he would see Harry in potions in a few minutes.

He ignored the looks of contempt. He couldn't bring himself to care what they thought. Fear gripped his chest as he got closer to the potions classroom. What if he wasn't there? What if he was? What would he say to the boy he had kissed the night before? He opened the door hesitantly and found… no one. He was the first person there. Chewing on his lip, Draco went to his seat, his stomach churning.

Other students trickled in as the minutes ticked past. For the most part they ignored him, save for the few snide comments. By the time the Professor entered, everyone was silent and in their seats, everyone except for his partner.

"Good morning everyone. I hoped you all enjoyed the celebration last night. That being said, today we will begin brewing a Blood-Replenishing Potion. Invented by…" Draco tuned her out. He knew all of this already. Instead he focused on crushing the growing despair.

Harry wasn't here. He had gone too far, and now Harry was going to shun him. He could feel the crushing weight of rejection overpowering him. He found it difficult to draw in breath, his chest constricting painfully. He closed his eyes and forcing his lungs to take in a deep breath. He was acting ridiculous. He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake not some schoolgirl to be crushed because a boy was avoiding him.

"I'm sorry Professor," his eyes flew open, "I-I overslept and…" Harry stood in the doorway his eyes wary.

"Have a seat Mister Potter," she pointed to the desk, "Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting my class, and another ten for lateness."

As he approached, Draco could do nothing but watch, hope blooming in his chest. The other boy refused to look at him. His eyes were trained forward as if Draco didn't exist. This was not the reaction he was hoping for.

The moment the Professor released them to begin working Harry was up before the word "begin" had died on her lips. Draco started a small fire under their cauldron reflexively, never taking his eyes from Harry. He didn't need to his eyes to get started. His godfather had made sure potion making was like breathing to him. Snape had been tutoring him from the moment he could hold a spoon.

When Harry returned, he carefully laid out the ingredients. Before Draco could react, he handed him a handful of haliwinkles before he himself started shredding the snakeweed, "Grind that," his tone was curt, and his eyes never left his work. Draco sighed, but did as he was told.

They worked in silence for several moments. Draco glanced over at Harry ever few seconds to find him focusing intently on the snakeweed, "You're slicking that to thick," he murmured. He reached out automatically his fingers resting on Harry's wrist.

He drew in a sharp breath, and wordlessly handed over the knife. He watched Draco slice a few pieces, making hair thin, "See?" he offered, handing him back the knife. Their fingers brushed as Harry took the knife. Again Harry stiffened his breath catching in his throat.

They lapsed back into silence, "Are we not going to talk about what happened last night?" Draco said under his breath, his eyes trained on the potion.

"There's nothing to talk about," Harry's voice was just as quiet.

"Then why don't you tell everyone else that?"

Harry sighed, and set down the knife with a soft _thunk_, "What is there to talk about? You kissed me, end of story," he turned back to his work.

"How did you feel about that?" Draco pried, his temper rising. He would not be ignored.

"What do you want me to say Draco?" he demanded, "That I don't know how to feel about what we did last night? That I don't know how I feel about you? What would you have me say?"

Draco smirked slightly, "How about this? I won't mention it again until you do? Nothing will happen between us until you figure out how you feel about it." he offered, "Until then we could go back to the way things were before?"

"I'd like that," Harry said with a small smile.

Draco nodded, breaking the tension with a conversation about Quidditch. He would have thought that there was no chance of their friendship becoming anything more than what it was if it weren't for the look Harry had given him the night before, and the quick, longing glances he kept passing him when he though he wasn't looking. He would just have to bide his time, and wait until Harry was ready before he made his move.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I know this chapter isn't as exciting as the last, but I promise it will pick back up. I think I'm going to have another time skip to Christmas, but I'm not sure yet. If I do that then the next chapter will involve them solidifying their relationship. If you're interested, tell me what you think of the RP ideas I have. This summer had been boring so I have all the time in the world to work on them. Also please forgive me if you don't like how I wrote the first part. I was in the mood to try a dialogue only section. **_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	13. Revelations

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**Ok, I've got a new fanfic up. It's another "aftermath" type thing but instead of there being peace the war is still ongoing. It's going to be much darker than this one, and MUCH more violent. Thank you for the reviews that the last chapter. AcadianProud: I'm glad you liked that because it's going to pay off for Draco. Crystal Bruner: Your impatience is inspiring. For you, I will hurry this up. That being said, in this chapter the couple will solidify their relationship. They decided not to do this during Christmas because I have another plan for that. Instead of this is going to be a time-skip of about two weeks. That being said… WARNING: this chapter will contain a small intimate scene with Harry and Draco. If you do not like it then please do not read. **_

_**I don't one Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Twelve: Revelations**

**Harry's POV**

"This is hopeless," Harry grumbled, tossing the book aside, "How am I supposed to write an essay on the Imperius Curse? It's summed up in a sentence!" he set his glasses aside, lightly rubbing his eyes.

Draco laughed, and picked up the book, "It can't be that hard," he teased. He had already finished the essay, and moved on to his potions reading.

"Really? It's not even that hard of a spell. You point your wand at the person say the words and you have control over them. There is no way I can stretch that into a thousand words."

"You say that as if from experience," Draco laughed again, and placed the books in a neat pile.

Harry's eyes opened, and he glanced around the empty library, "And if I do?" They had decided to come here so that they could work in relative privacy. It was difficult to work with people rudely interrupting. Since the party, they had made their friendship more public. To the distained of the rest of the populous, they could often be seen eating or studying or simply talking. Harry would never admit it, but it felt nice being alone with Draco. He was a friend. A true friend not like the people Dumbledore had assigned as his friends. _Just a friend?_ His mind hissed at him. Harry's cheeks darkened slightly as he thought back to the kiss. True to his word, Draco had not brought it up again, but Harry couldn't stop thinking about it.

Draco snorted loudly, drawing him from his thoughts, "Then it's nothing to be ashamed of, I'm positive that I've done worse."

Harry smiled slightly, "It's not your fault though," he could see the walls going up as Draco's face grew guarded.

Draco looked at him suddenly and shook his head, "Why don't we go somewhere else? I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?" Harry asked suddenly tense.

Draco smirked, "Just trust me Potter," he stood and shoved the books in his bag, "We just need somewhere more private," he murmured to himself.

"I… I know just the place," He said slowly. He was curious as to what Draco had in mind, and there was only why he could find out, "I have my own rooms on the seventh floor," He admitted.

"Perfect. How do I get in?" Harry told him as they walked out of the library, "Good, I'll meet you there," Draco said, veering off towards the dungeons before Harry could protest.

Harry frowned, and watched him go. _What is he up to?_ He wondered. Deciding he could find out when Draco returned, Harry made his way up to his rooms. He went immediately to his bedroom and tossed his bag on the small desk beside the door, and crossed the room to the bathroom.

He frowned at his reflection in the mirror, as if he were just noticing if for the first time. There were dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and the way his hair fell around his face made him look paler. His hair had grown to just below his shoulder blades in the few months he had been here, and he hadn't bothered to cut it. It stood out at odd ends, curling slightly with its length. His clothes were baggy and worn slightly; he was still wearing Dudley's castoffs.

Harry groaned in despair, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. He didn't bother to analyze why he was feeling anxious as he stripped off his clothes, and half ran to his room. He threw open in wardrobe, looking for anything that wasn't two sizes too large. He finally settled on a wine colored button up shirt and a pair of black slacks. He ran his fingers through his hair again and stepped out into the sitting room just as the door opened.

He saw Draco's eyes widen slightly, but for the most part his expression never changed, "Had I known this was going to be a date I would have changed clothes too," he teased, tossing the bag he carried onto the small couch. It landed with a suspicious clank. Harry's face reddened, and Draco laughed softly, "I'm just kidding," he murmured, looking him up and down as he sank smoothly into the spot beside it.

His face still hot, Harry sat on the larger couch across from him, "So what's your idea?" he asked, effectively changing the subject.

Draco smiled wickedly, and pulled out several bottles of Firewhisky from his bag with a flourish, "I thought we could play a game," he announced, "It's called 'I have…' The rules are that you take turns saying statements, and whoever it's true for drinks. Easy right?"

Harry shook his head, "Why are we playing this?" he asked.

"Because it's fun and it's a good way to get drunk," he tossed harry one of the bottles which he caught reflexively, "It's something we would play in the manor when things got to be bad. It let us know who we were working with and allowed us to drink ourselves into oblivion." At Harry's skeptical look he smirked, "Here I'll go first. I never had a pet growing up," he brought the bottle to his lips and drank, watching as Harry did the same, "Your turn."

Harry thought for a moment, "I had a lot of responsibilities when I was young," he drank.

"Sorry, house elves," Draco explained when he didn't drink, "I had a broken bone at an age young than ten."

Harry drank, "My aunt and uncle didn't like me much," he murmured under his breath, "I knew there was something expected of me at a young age." They both drank, "I always knew I was different, I use to think that I was a super hero or that someone would come and take me away from the Dursley's," Harry admitted. He could already feel the alcohol working through his system, making his head buzz.

Draco nodded, "I knew my parents were Death Eaters, and that they were sure the Dark Lord would come back. I knew I had to join him when they did. During the war I thought about switching sides," he took a long drink, and after a moment's hesitation Harry followed suit, "You kidding?"

Harry shook his head, looking away, "I thought about going to Voldemort a hundred times."

"Why didn't you?"

"I was the 'Chosen One.' I was expected to kill Voldemort. I couldn't not do that. I've been tortured."

They both drank, "I wish I had died during the war."

Both, "I had my life saved by an enemy." Only Harry, "I saved your life didn't I?" he asked.

"You're not my enemy Harry. I was betrayed by a friend."

Only Harry, "Can you keep a secret?" Harry asked. They had already gone through two bottles each, and Harry found it hard to think straight.

Draco nodded, and leaned forward.

"All of it was a lie," he ran his fingers through his hair, "Voldemort never killed my parents. There was no prophecy. There wasn't even a Chosen One."

"What do you mean?"

"Dumbledore lied about it all," he felt anger rise in his chest, "He fucking lied to me. He told me that Voldemort found my family that he chose me to die, when it was he that killed them. He gave me to him knowing that trying to kill me would destroy him. He gave me to my abusive family and let them beat and starve me. All in the name of making me trust him. He told Ron and Hermione to be friends with me. He made sure my life was in danger every single year I was here so that everyone could see how good his champion was. I fucking trusted him and he lied to me." He was roaring in anger by the time he finished, tears trailing down his cheeks.

Draco stood and went to him, gently holding him as his anger melted into sorrow, "It's ok," he murmured, "It wasn't your fault."

It felt good to admit it out loud. He hadn't told anyone about Dumbledore's betrayal, but it had felt freeing to tell Draco. Harry shifted his weight so that he could look up at his friend's face, "Draco?" he said softly. He was lovely, and Harry's alcohol soaked brain found it hard to look away.

"Yeah?" the other boy looked down at him, his eyes full of longing and pain. There was so much they needed to talk about, so much he wanted to know, but at the moment it was hard to think about anything but the person he held in his arms.

They moved at the same time. Harry's arms wound around Draco's neck, while Draco's finger found his hair. After a moment, Draco slowly pulled back, looking deep into Harry's eyes. They stared at each other for a handful of seconds, before their lips met again.

A low moan pulled from Harry's throat as he sat back to that Draco was on top of him, deepening the kiss. He could feel the other boy's tongue gently push against his lips, and he opened up to him. Draco kissed him with as much passion as he could, their tongues twining as the kiss deepened. Harry moaned softly again, Draco's fingers tangling in his hair. They stayed pressed together for as long as they could, before breaking away to gasp for air.

Harry gazed up at him, the other boy's hair tousled, and his eyes burning with desire. His hands curled in his shirt, pulling him down to claim his lips again. Harry's fingers fumbled with the buttons of Draco's shirt, wanting to feel bare skin under his hands. He managed to get three buttons undone before Draco's hands captured his wrists.

**Draco's POV**

He pulled away looking down at Harry again, "Harry," he breathed, "We can't do this…" his voice was filled with regret, and desire.

"Why not," he demanded, trying again to kiss him.

"Damn it… You're drunk. We can't do this and then have you regretting it in the morning." He was torn. He wanted nothing more than to take Harry right then and there, but he couldn't do it if there was even a chance that he would be rejected later. He sat back so that they were no longer touching. He had to get out of here before they both did something the regretted.

Draco stood to leave, but Harry grabbed his hand lightly, "Wait," his pleading tone stopped him, "Please stay at least. Stay the night? We can talk about it in the morning?" he asked.

Draco sighed, a tragic look in his eyes, "Fine," he sat back down on the couch, "We should really be getting to sleep before we both do something we regret."

Harry nodded reluctantly, and disappeared into the other room. He came back a few moments later with a blanket and pillow in his hands. He passed them to Draco without looking at him, "Goodnight Draco," he murmured, turning to go.

"Goodnight Harry." He settled down on the couch. He closed his eyes, but didn't sleep. Draco remained awake most of the night wondering if he had just destroyed any relationship they may have had. He didn't know that Harry was doing the same behind the closed door no more than ten feet away.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I hoped you liked this chapter because I'm not feeling very confident about it. Alas it's the best I can do right now. Please review and tell me what you think. The next chapter will be the next morning I think. **_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	14. First Time

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**You are all so sweet. I'm glad you liked the last chapter because there's more coming in this one ;-)! Crystal Burner, redmystic, SophieAngel69: as always you are the best! You always seem to make me smile with your comments (especially you Crystal Bruner you ALWAYS make me laugh). Lara: You too are awesome. Thank you all so much! If you haven't checked it out, I've got another fanfic up called "Broken" check it out if you're in the mood. It also means I'll be dividing my time between them so don't expect a post every day! This chapter will be the morning after, and I have a feeling you're going to like it. WARNING: There will be a longer more… complete scene between the two (though sadly I can't use the detail I normally would). This chapter is nothing but smut, and I'll get back to the story tomorrow. If you don't like it please don't read! As always, I love you all and…**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Thirteen: First Time**

**Harry's POV**

A low moan pulled from his lips as he clawed his way to consciousness. His head pounded and his mouth was dry, burning with thirst. He sat up suddenly, causing the room to spin. With another moan he sank back into the bed. _What did I do last night?_ He closed his eyes. He remembered coming here and playing a game with Draco and then… He sat up suddenly, causing his stomach to lunch. He was up and across the room before he even realized he was moving. He had just enough time to throw his head over the toilet before his stomach heaved. What little he had in his system spewed out. He hung his head over the bowl for several minutes, until his vomiting had been reduced to dry heaves.

He sat back, wiping his mouth, his face burning. _I made out with Draco Malfoy last night…_ The thought made him blush deeper. He stood slowly, and carefully walked over to the sink. The water was cool as he scrubbed his face, taking extra care to rinse his mouth. _I made out with Draco Malfoy last night…_ The thought came again on its own accord and on its heels _and I liked it…_ He could admit it, if only to himself. He had enjoyed kissing Draco.

Another groan fell from his lips. He had acted like an idiot last night, more like a horny teenager than a war hero. He leaned against the counter. Draco must think that he was foolish. He scrubbed his hands over his face. There wasn't anything he could do about it now. What was done was done. There was no way he could change it, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to.

_I need a shower. _He quickly stripped off the pajama bottoms he had pulled on before collapsing into bed and tossed them on the counter. He turned the water on hot and stepped under the spray. The water felt amazing, washing away the last of the grime from the night before. He sighed and let the water relax him.

He sighed and content, allowing his mind to turn to the night before. He had more than enjoyed the kiss they had shared, and he couldn't help but think of what could have happened if Draco hadn't stopped him. He bit his lip, his member growing hard at the thought. He had wanted Draco, and he still did after he had sobered up. He laughed softly, letting his mind run wild for a moment. If anyone had asked him a year ago if he would be standing in the shower fantasizing about Draco Malfoy, he would have died of laughter. At yet here he was.

He could almost feel of Draco's lips on his neck as he pressed against him from behind. His arms wrapping around his chest, sliding lower until… His eyes flew open. He wasn't imagining it.

**Draco's POV**

He had woken up with a headache and the unbearable urge to vomit. He had stumbled to the bathroom with the full intention of expelling what was in his stomach, but the sight of Harry in the shower stopped him. The glass was clear from the waist up, and frosted just above the line of his hips. Even so Draco felt his mouth go dry. Almost like a man possessed he stepped into the spray, running his hands up Harry's back and kissing his throat. When Harry moaned and tilted his head to the side, he pressed himself more firmly against his back. His teeth bit down lightly on his throat and his hands trailed around to his front, trailing down his chest and stomach.

Just as his fingers reached the hardness between his legs he felt Harry stiffen. He slowly moved his hands so that they rested on his hips. He was about to pull away, afraid he had gone too far, when the other boy turned so that he was facing him. Harry looked up at him through his eyelashes and kissed him suddenly, with as much passion as he could. Draco kissed him back, plunging his hands into his hair and pulling him closer. He pressed him back until Harry's back hit the shower wall while Harry's hands tore at the shirt he hadn't bothered to take off. Buttons popped. He let go of Harry long enough to let the soaked fabric slide down his arms and land on the floor with a wet _plop_. He moaned softly as Harry gripped him through the drenched fabric of his pants.

Draco pulled back from the kiss, kissing his way up Harry's neck to nip lightly at his ear. He moaned louder as Harry stroked him through his pants. He reached in between them, taking hold of Harry. He felt the other boy thrust against his hand and moan loudly. Draco pumped him harder, and Harry's fingers left him for a moment as he fumbled with the button of his pants. He took hold of Draco again thrusting against his hand so that they brushed against each other. They both moaned louder, and Harry's teeth found his shoulder. He bit down hard suddenly, causing Draco's hand to tighten. He cried out loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure.

Draco could feel himself coming closer, and he moved his hand faster, harder, wanting Harry to come before him. Harry cried out louder, "Draco," he moaned, thrusting harder against his hand. Draco gripped him harder as the other boy's pace quickened. He thrust harder, and they pressed together again. He felt Harry stiffen suddenly, his face twisting in pleasure. Harry cried out into his shoulder as he came seconds before Draco found his own release.

Draco pressed his forehead against Harrys, panting as he looked into his eye, "Damn…" he breathed, smirking slightly as his pulse slowed, "Good morning," he said, lightly kissing Harry.

He felt Harry grain against his lips, "Good morning."

He couldn't help but laugh softly, "So I was wondering about last night," he could feel the goofy grin on his lips, "And was wondering if you wanted to do anything about that," he teased.

Harry giggled and kissed him again, "I think I would."

Draco grinned again, he couldn't help it. _This is going to be interesting…_

_**Thank you for reading Everyone!**_

_**I'm sorry I'm posing so late (it's one in the morning right now). It was my brother's seventeenth birthday today so I didn't have much time to write. I hope the scene makes up for it. Believe it or not this is the first time anyone has ever read any of my "dirty" work. That being said, I'm sorry if it's not that good. The version I wanted to write was much more graphic before I watered it down so that it wouldn't be too bad for this site. Please review and tell me what you think. Also I have a question for my readers that write: do you have specific music you listen to when you write? I know I do. I have this whole playlist made up of songs that make my muse sing. Just wondering… The next chapter will be more of that morning (there may or may not be another scene) and possibly a talk with Snape.**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	15. The Morning After

_**Hello Everyone!  
**_

_**I'm sorry you had to wait; it's the fourth of July here in the States. That is (if you don't know) the country's Independence Day, so I was too busy to write. I promise to make up for it though! *wicked grin* I think you'll like this chapter… I'm glad last chapter was appreciated. Redmystique: I've read worse on here too, but I'm trying to be couscous. The last chapter was watered down, trust me. The original was much dirtier. I don't think the next one will be though. I'm going to go all out. SophieAngel69: Interesting. I have a whole playlist of about twenty songs that for some odd reason help me write. Allie Danger: It's good to feel the love! As always PLEASE review. I'm not above begging. This chapter will not have any "intimate" scene, but it's going to set up something big for next chapter.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Fourteen: The Morning After**

**Harry's POV**

He sat curled up on the couch, Draco's head in his lap. He absently was running his fingers through his hair as he read. The morning had been wonderful. _I can get used to this… _Harry thought with a small smile. Fun in the shower with Draco followed by breakfast and cuddling on the couch. What more could he ask for?

Draco's breathing was even, almost as if he was sleeping, but Harry knew that wasn't the case. He snapped the book shut and gazed down at the other boy. His fingers traced down Draco's cheek, making him smile, and lightly kiss Harry's fingers when they reached his lips. His fingers slid lower as he lightly traced the first of the scars on his shoulders. They had both opted out of a shirt, choosing instead to stay in pajama bottoms on their day off.

He had been preoccupied in the shower, and hadn't noticed them. But now that he was thinking clearly, he could see that there were countless marks that crossed his arms and chest. Some of them seemed to have a pattern, while others like the ones on his arms were careless, "How did you get all of these?" he wondered aloud. His eyes traced the four vertical scars that raked down his stomach to disappear into the waistband of the bottoms.

"Which ones?" Draco murmured. His eyes were open now, filled with some emotion Harry couldn't identify.

"This?" he asked, tracing the one that curled across chest from shoulder to shoulder.

"That I got about a month after I was marked. After I had failed my first mission," his spoke softly, "And he punished me for it." He took Harry's hand suddenly, sliding it down his chest. "This," he guided his hand along a scar that stretched along his muscled stomach, "I got during my initiation. My aunt gave it to me. That, among other things, is part of the process," his gaze grew distant as he remembered all the pain he had suffered. He guided Harry's hand lower. "This," he let his fingers rest on the small "V" on his right hip, "Was also part of my initiation too."

Harry frowned, tracing the small letter. It seemed insignificant compared to the rest, but it seemed to cause him the most pain. "I don't understand."

Draco shook his head, "I don't want to talk about that right now. Later," he promised when Harry protested, "I'll tell you anything you want to know later, but right now I want to talk to you about something."

"And what might that be?" he asked. His fingers went back to Draco's hair. He loved the feel of it, so soft.

"Last night. You told me something about Dumbledore; that he lied to you?" It came out as a question.

The fingers stilled in his hair, "I did, yes." Harry's guard went up instinctively.

Draco sat up so that he could properly look at him, "Was it true?"

"…Yes," he said after a moment, "I have proof," he added softly. Before Draco could say anything else Harry stood and went to the small bookshelf across the room. He plucked one from the shelf, and returned. He could feel Draco's eyes on him as he ran his wand across the cover. The book sprang open, reveling blank pages. Again he touched his wand to it. He heard Draco gasp as the headmaster's handwriting sprawled across the pages. He handed it over without looking at him.

Draco read for several minutes in silence. "This can't be true," he whispered, "It has to be a trick or something."

Harry laughed bitterly, "I wish it were."

"You have to tell someone. Snape maybe? I don't know," He handed the journal back to Harry.

"Snape knows. He's how I know it's true. He knew that Dumbledore set everything up."

"No," he said shaking his head, "He and I have talked. He loved your mother. He would have never sided with anyone who killed her."

"I don't know if he knows. When he told me about his involvement, he said he didn't know anything else," he ran his fingers through his hair, and bit his lip, "He could have been lying."

"There's only one way to find out," Draco said. He stood and took Harry's hand, half dragging him towards the bedroom. He forced him to sit on the bed while he went to the closet. Harry watched as he rummaged around in it. "Is this all you have?" he asked, emerging with clothes draped over his arm.

"Yes, well…" Harry felt his face redden. He wasn't normally self-conscious over his clothes, but seeing Draco holding the clothes that had once been his cousin's embarrassed him. "I never really bothered to go shopping, and…" his cheeks burned, "I always got whatever Dudley grew out of." He bit his lip again.

Draco frowned slightly, but said nothing about it as he tossed a sweater and pants in his lap, "Get dressed."

Harry was grateful that he wasn't going to question him about it right now. He waited for Draco to leave, but the other boy simply shimmied out of his barrowed sweats. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He had defiantly been distracted earlier to not have noticed the sheer perfection of the man standing in front of him. His body was lightly muscled, the kind that came from a perfect workout regimen. His skin was perfectly white, marred only by the scars that glistened a lighter white than the rest.

When Draco caught him staring he grinned and sauntered forward. He was wearing nothing but his slacks, unbuttoned so that they hung low on his hips. He lightly ran his hands down Harry's chest, "See something you like?" he teased, lightly kissing him. He pressed his palms on Harry's chest, kissing him harder while pressing him back against the bed.

Draco straddled his waist, the kiss deepening. His lips lingered for a moment as he pulled away,

"You're very distracting," Harry murmured.

He climbed off of him, gently pulling Harry to his feet, "As are you, but we're still going to see Snape. Get dressed," he said firmly.

Harry changed quickly, ignoring the discomfort that bloomed in his stomach. They had been naked in front of each other before, but it was more than embarrassing when they weren't touching. He dressed as quickly as he could, ignoring the smirk on Draco's lips. The moment he was dressed he grabbed Harry's hand and half drug him out of the rooms. He paused only to scoop up the journal as they passed.

"Draco," he protested.

"No Harry, we need to talk to him."

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, so the castle was nearly empty. They only passed a group of first years who only stared in stunned silence. Draco didn't hesitate when he reached the tapestry. As always a thin tread of anxiety shoot through his stomach at the sight of the battle. He didn't knock when they reached the door, he simply threw it open, dragging Harry with him.

Snape's head snapped up, his face twisted in a mask of anger, "Who the hell-" his eyes widened when he saw the boys. "Is something wrong?" he demanded. His expression changed from pissed to concern.

"Harry?" Draco said. He tried to pull away, but he laced his fingers laced with his. He pulled Harry so that he stood beside him, "Please Harry," he murmured softly.

Harry sighed and clutched Draco's hand tightly, "I have some information you may want to see," he whispered. Draco handed him the journal, and Harry opened it carefully, reveling the words before handing it over. His heart was in his throat as he watched Snape scan the pages.

"Where did you find this?" he asked softly. His face was guarded.

"After the battle. I went to the Headmaster's office to," he bit his lip, and Draco ran his thumb over his knuckles, "To retrieve your memories. I took a look some of the artifacts that were still on the shelves and noticed a book. I thought it was nothing at first, but something about it felt…off, so I took it. I spent weeks trying to figure out how it opened, and even longer on how to read it. I was hoping it was a lie, but when you confronted me about Dumbledore I knew at least that part of it was true."

Snape listened in stunned silence. He had only skimmed it, but he recognized the energy attached to it. "Do you know what this is?" he asked softly, "It's no normal journal. It's sort of like a Pensieve, but in written form. These are extremely rare, and if we can access it we can prove if it's real or not," he pulled out his wand. He pressed his wand to it, mumbling under his breath.

Harry could feel the power spread from the journal. The world tilted, flickered. Harry felt as if something were tugging on his chest. He blinked, and found himself staring into the deep, green eyes of his mother.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I am so sorry if it's not that good; I am so tired that my eyes are burning. I just had to get you all a chapter. Please forgive me. I know it's not the best, or the most exciting, but I'll make it up to you next chapter. Next time is going to be some of Dumbledore's memories and maybe another scene with our couple. I love you all!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	16. The Truth

_**Hello Everyone**_

_**I'm sorry for the wait. It was my birthday yesterday, and I was hanging out with my best friend. I didn't get a chance to write. And I am not so sorry for the cliffhanger. I've got to have some way to get you to come back. I hope this makes up for it. This is going to be a longer chapter because it's going to go through several of Dumbledore's memories. Tanvi: You are officially my favorite person on earth. You are so sweet and you honor a poor writer. Adrian Winter: You are also not on my favorite person's list. I feel so loved. Redmystique: you are always so supportive. You always make me smile. I'm sure you all will love this chapter. As I said before, this is going to be Dumbledore's memories, including what really happened the night Lily and James died. Also… WARNING: This chapter will have another lemon scene with Harry and Draco. Don't like, don't read.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Fifteen: The Truth**

**Harry's POV**

"Mom?" Harry breathed as he looked into her eyes.

"Harry James Potter," Lily giggled. She walked past Harry to go to the small couch where a small, dark-haired baby sat. Harry could feel the stunned look on his face. He was looking at his mother. He was in their living room in Godric's Hollow, and he was watching his mother kneel beside a one year old version of him.

"Can I please have Daddy's wand?" she smiled, holding out her had. The baby looked first at the wand clutched in his tiny fist and then at the woman in front of him. After a long moment of deliberation that baby's always seem to have, he handed it over to her.

Lily set the wand aside, and took her son's hand, bringing it to her lips. The baby giggled, and she scooped him up in her arms, holding him close, "James how many times have I told you not to leave your wand laying around. Harry could hurt himself." Her tone was light. There was no hint of scolding.

"I don't remember you saying anything about it, baby," he teased as he entered the room. He had a large box of Halloween decorations in his arms, which he promptly set aside to lightly kiss his wife, "How's my little man?" he cooed, leaning down to get face to face with the baby boy.

"Mischievous and restless. There's no denying he's your son," she teased, setting the boy down on the couch.

Harry felt a pang go through his chest as they both laughed. They were so happy. They had no idea what was coming. Draco's fingers laced with his lightly, as if sensing his inner turmoil. The grown Harry glanced at Snape to see his mouth set into a thin line.

James plucked his wand from the table, waving it absently so that the decorations zoomed onto the walls. Lily vanished into the kitchen, and returned moments later with two steaming cups of coco and a bottle of formula. The small family snuggled in front of the fire. It was the image of bliss.

James frowned slightly as there was a knock at the door, "Who could that be?" he murmured. It was late, and only a few people knew where this place was. Wand in hand, he made his way to the door. "Albus!" he exclaimed with a smile when he saw who it was. He threw the door open and stepped back to allow the man in. His hair had yet to go white; it hung long and brown down his back.

"James," Dumbledore greeted. His face was ruddy from the cold, and his eyes sparkled with warmth, "How are you my boy?" he asked, stepping farther in and sheading his thick cloak.

"I'm well, Sir," he said, leading Albus to the living room, "Lily we have a visitor."

Lily stood, Harry in her arms and hugged the older man, "Albus. It's good to see you. What brings you here?" She smiled brightly at him and motioned for him to sit.

"I felt the urge to visit you both," Albus sat across from Lily and James joined her, wrapping his arms around his wife, "How is your son?"

"He's well," she ran her hand through his mess of dark hair, "Growing every day. I can't seem to keep him still." She laughed, "He's powerful. He managed to break his crib the other day because I didn't feed him fast enough."

As if knowing he was being talked about, the boy smiled and let out a baby's giggle.

Albus nodded, "May I?" he held out his arms and Lily immediately passed her son to him. The other man played with the baby for several minutes before James spoke.

"Has there been any word about You Know Who?" he asked. His voice was tense.

"None. He's still looking for you, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to your son," Dumbledore handed the child back to his mother, "He is more important than anyone can ever know."

"Are you sure it's him?" Lily looked down at her baby with a look of concern and love. "Is it possible that it could be another?"

"No. He's perfect for what must be done."

"But you're sure the prophecy named him?" she demanded.

"He is the only one," he said softly. "I've been meaning to talk to you both about that." In a fraction of a second his face changed from caring to hard. He drew his wand, and pointed it at the couple on the couch.

Harry moved instinctively. He made to move, "No," he breathed. Draco's fingers tightened in his.

Snape's were pained as he watched the scene, "This is a memory Potter. There is nothing we can do."

"What the hell is going on?" James demanded. He stood suddenly so that he was standing between Albus and his family.

"You don't understand," Albus said softly, "Harry has to be motivated to kill Lord Voldemort. He has to be willing to do it without hesitation. I can't allow you to be a part of his life."

"Lily run! Go! Take Harry and go!" James said. His fingers went to his pocket, and he drew his own wand.

"I'm sorry about this James. You and your wife must die for the greater good. _Avada Kedavra_."

"James!" Lily cried out as her husband fell. She was up and up the stairs before his body hit the floor.

The trio followed her without thinking about it, watching as she dropped her son into his crib, "It's ok sweetie," she whispered. There were tears in her eyes as she crouched beside the crib, "Mommy loves you Harry," she cried softly.

Tears slid down the real Harry's cheeks as the door opened.

"I'm sorry Lily," Albus whispered. He stood behind the woman as she rose, "I wish it didn't have to be this way, but Harry will never do his duty if you and James are alive."

She shook her head, "No… No, please Albus… Please…"

"I'm sorry. _Avada Kedavra_," there was another flash of green light, and Lily fell to the ground, dead.

Dumbledore went to the crib, and looked down at the child. He was not crying, as he should have been. He looked up at the man who had just killed his parents and smiled a toothless smile. Dumbledore smiled in response, "You are about to do something great Harry," he lightly touched the boy's cheek, "You're about to survive an attack from Lord Voldemort."

He turned and left, going out just beyond the shattered wards, "Peter," he called to the rat hiding in the bushes, "Go and tell your master where the boy is." The man stepped into the shadows and waited.

Hours passed before finally the Dark Lord appeared. He walked smoothly up the front path. Dumbledore and the trio watched, all holding their breath as a light came on in the nursery. There was a flash of green light, and an explosion, followed by the wailing of a baby.

The scene blurred, and again they were standing just outside the Potter home. Harry could see the figure of his godfather swagger up the front path, "Oy! James? Lily" he called. He had a pot of stew clutched in his hands, "I brought food!" he laughed, the grin evident on his face. He froze when he got to the open door. The pot shattered on the ground as he pulled his wand, "Lily? James?" he called.

A broken sob pulled from his throat when he saw the man he considered to be his brother dead and crumpled on the floor, "Lily?" he cried out. The cries of a baby pierced the silence. "Harry!"

He was up the stairs in seconds. Another cry escaped his lips when he saw Lily's body, but he didn't stop. He scooped Harry from the crib, checking him for injury. Save for the scar on his forehead, he seemed fine. "Harry. Oh god Harry." He breathed. He had to get out of here, it wasn't safe.

The moment he stepped out of the house, Hagrid appeared, "Sirius?" the half giant asked, "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"They're dead," tears streamed down his cheeks, "Lily, James. Dead," he was crying as he said it.

"I've been told to get Harry," Hagrid said softly, "Dumbledore sent me to get him."

Sirius nodded, "Yes. You have to get Harry out of here," he handed him the child. "Take my bike," he said. The numbness was setting in, "Take it and go. I have to… I have to go. I have to kill a rat…"

The scene blurred again, and this time they were standing on the familiar Privet Drive. They watched as Dumbledore left Harry on his Aunt's doorstep and… they were standing in his office.

"Is it done?" Tiberius Ogden paced the Headmaster's office, wringing his hands.

"It's done," Dumbledore responded with a small smile, "The Potters are dead, the Dark Lord is dead, and Harry is with his muggle family. All went well."

"You're sure?" he demanded, stopping suddenly, "There is nothing that can link their deaths to myself and Mr. Rodgens? If anyone found out that two members of the Wizengamot had anything to do with setting this up-"

"Everything is taken care of."

"And you're sure he'll be back?"

"Positive. And Harry will be ready when he is…"

The scene shifted again…

"Dead… He killed her…" a younger Snape sat slumped in a chair. He was crying as he spoke, "You said you would protect her, but she's dead…"

"They put their faith in the wrong person," Dumbledore knelt so that they were at eye level.

"He killed her because of me; I told him about the prophesy," he cried harder.

"It was not in vain Severus," he said softly, "Her son lives. And," a pause, "There was no prophesy."

"What," confusion colored the younger Snape's tone.

"It was faked," he said softly, "I didn't think he would go after them, but I had to do something to produce a savior."

"What!" he roared, "She died for nothing then!"

"No, she died so her son could live and one day save the world. Swear to me Severus that you will protect the boy, and that you will revel this to no one."

They made the vow and…

"That's enough," Snape whispered. His voice was broken with old pain.

The world blurred and they were back in his office. Harry collapsed to his hands and knees. His head hung low. His breath heaved from his chest. It was one thing to read about Dumbledore's actions, but to see them first hand. "That bastard," he snarled. Fury ripped through him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think about anything except for the wrath that pooled in his stomach. "All those years. All those years he looked me in the fucking eye and told me that it was my destiny to kill Voldemort. Every single time he told me that I would be avenging my family, and he was the one that killed them." He roared a long, rage-filled cry loud enough that he was sure that the entire school heard.

Arms wrapped around him from behind, holding him close, "Harry…" Draco murmured. He pulled Harry against him, holding him against his chest.

He hadn't even realized he had been crying until Draco gently wiped his face. A low broken sob pulled from his lips and he buried his face in Draco's shirt. His rage cooled, hardening into the heavy lump that was despair.

**Draco's POV**

He held Harry while he cried. The other boy sat curled in his lap, clinging to him as if he were the last solid thing on earth. It broke his heart to see him this way. All he could do was hold him to his chest and murmur soft, nonsense in his ear. Draco looked to his godfather and saw that he was not in much better shape. He looked a step away from breaking. His eyes were filled with unimaginable pain. He could understand why; he had just found out that the man he had trusted had killed the love of his life. Under normal circumstances he would have been embarrassed to have Snape watching him hold another man, but right now all he could care about what Harry.

"Harry," Draco murmured. He ran his fingers lightly through his hair, "Harry I'm so sorry." He shifted his weight so that he could pull him closer. He was no longer crying. He simply sat there in his arms.

"Draco," Snape said, "Mister Potter needs some rest and time to recover, and I need some time alone quite frankly." He went to his desk and scooped up the journal and handed it to him, "Make sure no one else knows about this. We need time to consider our options." He looked sadly at Harry, "Make sure he gets to bed ok. Stay with him please, we can't have him hurting himself," he handed him a small vile. "Dreamless sleep," he explained, "Please have him take it."

Draco nodded, "Thank you Sir," he looked down at the boy in his arms. "Harry, love, we need to go." He stood slowly, pulling Harry with him. He kept his arms around him, holding most of his weight as he led him from the room.

They reached the entrance hall without meeting anyone, but just as they passed the doors, they opened. The pack of students that had left for Hogsmeade was returning. Draco cursed under his breath. He did not need this right now.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" he would know Ron's voice anywhere.

Draco glared at the red head, but didn't stop. Harry would be pissed if anyone saw him like this.

"Fucking Git! I was talking to you!"

Draco continued to ignore him, leading Harry up the stairs and away from prying eyes. There would be hell to pay in the morning, but for now all that mattered was getting him to bed. He locked the door immediately when they reached Harry's rooms. He took him to his room, and sat down on the bed, pulling the near catatonic teen into his arms again.

"Please Harry talk to me," he murmured. "Please," he kissed the side of his head, "I hate to see you like this."

"What do you want me to say Draco," he voice was raw from crying.

"I don't know."

Harry moved slightly so that he could look at him, "I'm angry and hurt and," he shook his head, not finishing.

"I know," Draco pulled him to his chest again. They sat like that for several minutes before he glanced down to meet Harry's gaze. Their eyes met, and Harry bit his lip. They moved at the same time, their lips meeting softly.

**Harry's POV**

Harry wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him harder. He wanted comfort. He kissed Draco harder and the other boy's fingers buried in his hair. He wanted Draco. The kiss changed, sparking with passion and desperation.

Draco moaned softly against his lips, and pressed him back until he lay under him. He straddled Harry's hips, trailing his hands down his body as they kissed. Harry's fingers tore at the button's on Draco's shirt until it fell open. He pressed his hands flat against the rough skin of his chest before sliding them around to rake his nails down his back.

Draco broke the kiss with another moan, "Harry," he gasped, "We can't."

Harry shook his head, and pulled him down again for another long, searing kiss. The other boy let out a soft growl and all but ripped the shirt from Harry's body. Harry gasped against his lips, ending it in a moan as Draco's hands trailed down his body to cup him through his pants. His lips trailed down his neck, and he griped him tightly for a moment before setting to work removing his pants. Within moments Harry lay naked under him moaning.

Draco gazed down at him and rolling his hips slightly so that he ground himself against Harry's erection. He smirked when Harry let out a loud moan. He did it again until Harry was squirming under him.

"Draco… please," his fingers were fumbling with the button on his pants. He shoved them down his legs when the button finally popped open. His own hardening member sprang free. Draco kicked them off and went back to kissing him. The couple continued to grind against each other, causing friction until they were both moaning in pleasure.

After a moment, Draco trailed his hand down Harry's body again. He lightly stroked between his cheeks before very slowly slipping a finger inside him. Harry let out a soft groan of pain, and jerked slightly, but didn't pull away. He moved his finger slowly at first before picking up speed.

"Easy love," he murmured. With his other hand he reached down and gripped Harry, pumping him in time with his probing finger. He waited until he started moaning again before adding a second finger, curling and twisting them as they moved in and out of his lover's ass.

When he was sure he was open enough he drew back to gaze down at the other boy, "We don't have any lube," he groaned. On some level he was aware that this was Harry's first time, and as much as he wanted to bury himself in the other boy, he didn't want to hurt him.

"I know," Harry moaned, wrapping his legs around Draco's waist.

Draco did the only thing he could; he spit in his hand and rubbed to down his erection. He moved so that he was pressed against Harry's opening. He looked deep into his eyes and ever so slowly slid into him.

Harry let out a soft cry at the burning that speared through his stomach. He stiffened, holding completely still.

"Easy," Draco said through clenched teeth. He was so tight, and it took every ounce of willpower not to shove himself into him.

They held completely still until the burning had faded, "Ok." Harry nodded. Draco drew himself back, making him cry out again. The pain was lesser this time. Slowly, very slowly Harry grew used to the feel of Draco thrusting into him. Pain morphed into pleasure until he was moaning loudly; raking his nails down his lover's back.

He thrust slowly at first, picking up speed. He was close already, but he refused to cum until Harry had. He angled his hips slightly until he was thrusting against the small bundle of nerves, making Harry scream in pleasure. He moaned, thrusting harder, encouraged by his moans.

"Draco!" Harry cried out. He bit down hard on his shoulder, writhing in pleasure.

"Harry," he gasped, pushing harder.

"Fuck Draco… I'm… I'm gonna…" He screamed his release. He back arched, and his nails ripped into Draco's back. His fingers tore into the sheets as he eyes rolled back into his head as he came.

The feeling of Harry tightening him around him drove Draco over the edge. He came deep inside the other boy, his name on his lips.

Spent he collapsed on top of him, pressing his face to his neck, "Fuck Harry," he panted. Very slowly he drew himself from him and moved so that he lay beside him.

Harry said nothing, too tired to speak. Instead he moved to curl up against him. He smiled when Draco's arms wrapped around him. His mind was drifting now, and he was vaguely aware of Draco casting a cleaning charm on them both. He knew there was something he was supposed to be remembering, but he was too tired to care. He was sinking into the darkness of sleep, curled up with the man that was once his greatest rival. He couldn't help but laugh at the thought just as darkness rolled over him and he sank into the first dreamless sleep he had had in years.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I hope this chapter stood up to your expectations! I feel like it's not that good. I know I say that every time, but writing is my passion so I'm always second guessing myself. As always review and tell me what you think. I'm not quite sure what I want the next chapter to be, so there's nothing I can tell you about it. As always I love you all!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	17. Anger and Pain

_**Hello Everyone.**_

_**Well I was hoping to get more reviews last chapter, but I suppose it wasn't that good… Hopefully this one will be better… I.C.2014: Such impatience. I can't tell you or it would ruin it. There is a plan here; I just have to get to it. Have faith all will be explained, promise. Since there isn't much to say I'll just get into this. This chapter will be shorter, consisting of a confrontation between the couple and Harry's former friends. I hope this goes over better than the last.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy.**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Sixteen: Anger and Pain**

**Harry's POV**

He awoke slowly. His bed was so comfortable, so warm. He felt relaxed. A smile curled on his lips. He had never slept so well. _What was I doing last night…?_ There was something he needed to remember, but at the moment he was too comfortable to consider it. He snuggled deeper into the covers. There was a slight ache through his ass and legs. It drew him farther out of sleep. He shifted his weight again, and something warm and solid wrapped around his chest.

His eyes flew open. There was someone else in the bed with him. He turned in the arms that held him, and found himself looking into the sleeping face of Draco Malfoy. Suddenly the night before flooded back to him. The journal. The memories. The pain. The sex. His face reddened at the memory. He couldn't believe what they had done. He bit his lip. Cautiously, he lightly trailed his fingers down his cheek.

Draco leaned into the touch, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. His gray eyes opened slowly, and his face brightened, "Good morning," he slurred sleepily.

"Good morning," Harry couldn't help but smile in response. He continued to trace his fingers along his face, receiving a light kiss on his palm when they brushed his lips.

"Did you sleep well?" Draco asked, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his arm.

"Better than I ever have," he admitted softly.

Draco's fingers traced down his chest, "I'm so glad I could help with that," he teased.

Harry blushed slightly and looked away, "Yeah. About that…"

His fingers stilled just above his heart, "Don't over think it love," he said, lightly touching Harry's cheek, "It was just sex."

He blushed deeper. _Love?_ _Was it really just sex to him? _He wondered. He could admit, if only to himself, that he had developed feelings for the other boy, but if he didn't feel the same way… Harry sat up suddenly, "As much as I'd like to lay in bed all day, if we don't get dressed soon we'll miss breakfast. And we have to be in class soon, and-" he knew he was babbling, but he didn't know what else to do. He climbed out of bed and went to his closet. There wasn't time for a shower; he'd just have to take one tonight.

He was jerking on a pair of slacks when he felt arms wrap around him. "Relax Harry," Draco murmured against his hair. "Nothing has to come of last night if you don't want it to."

"It's not that," he admitted.

"Then what has you all riled up?" he asked. He pressed Harry closer to his chest. They were almost the same height, so his lips were pressed to his hair.

"Draco, what… What would you say if I told you I wanted it to be more than 'just sex'?" his heart sped in his chest so loud that he was sure Draco could hear it.

"I would ask you what you meant," his tone was suddenly guarded.

"Damn it." He turned suddenly in his arms so that they were looking at each other. "I like you Draco; I mean I really like you and I don't want this to just be fucking."

Draco pressed his hands to the small of Harry's back, pressing him closer. Harry rested his hands on his chest, "Is that what you're worried about love?"

_There it is again 'Love?' What did he mean by that?_ Harry glared over his shoulder, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Harry," his fingers curled around his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze, "Harry I've had feelings for you almost since the moment I saw you in the Leaky Cauldron. I'm not going anywhere Harry."

Harry wanted more than anything to believe it, but the last time he had put his trust in someone he had found out that nearly every word they had said had been a lie.

**Draco's POV**

Draco's eyes softened and he leaned forward ever so slowly, giving Harry every chance to move. He kissed him as softly as he could; filling it with everything he couldn't say out loud. _I love you Harry. _He wanted more than anything to tell him, but he knew he wouldn't believe him. He wanted to kill Dumbledore for what he had done to him.

When he drew back he could see the uncertainty in Harry's eyes. He smiled sadly, _I will convince you._ He vowed. _I will do whatever it takes to make sure you never look at me like that again._

They dressed in silence. Harry was finished first and waiting for him when he stepped into the sitting area. He was flipping absently though the journal. The look in his eyes was tragic enough to break his heart. Draco gently took Harry's hands in his, closing the book, and drawing him to his feet, "Don't do this to yourself. Not today."

Draco set the book aside, and pulled him to the door. He released one hand, but entwined their fingers more firmly as they walked to the Great Hall. They stood outside the doors when they reached it, the babble of thousands of voices emitting from the room. When Harry made no move to take back his hand, Draco continued forward. The Ravenclaws closest to the door noticed first, stopping midsentence to stare. The silence spread in degrees as everyone became aware of the two of them.

Without a word spoken between them, the couple headed to the Slytherin table. By the time they were halfway there the only sound was of their footsteps echoing though the room. Everyone watched as they sat next to each other, their fingers still intertwined.

Draco could feel the tension where Harry's body pressed against him. He knew how much he hated attention. He gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze, brushing his thumb over his knuckles, "Just breathe love," he murmured under his breath, placing food on both of their plates. "Eat," he said, "You never eat enough." When the other boy didn't move, he took his chin in his hand again. There was panic in his green eyes. As he had before he moved forward slowly, letting Harry know of his intentions. The kiss was hardly more than a brush of lips, but it seemed to jar him out of his shocked state. There was a collective cry of outrage from the student body, but they ignored it. Draco smiled slightly, "Now please eat.

They chatted normally while they ate, acting as if they couldn't feel the tension building in the room. Eyes watched their every movement, but for the most part they were oblivious. The rose together when finished and exited the way they had come, hand in hand.

They talked absently about the Defense Against the Dark Arts class they were about to have, dancing around the subject of Snape. They were both wondering what shape he would be in when they got there. They had just reached the staircase when a voice sounded behind them.

"What the fuck was that?!" He would know that annoying roar anywhere.

Harry turned to his former friend first, a spark of fire in his eyes, "What the fuck was what Ron?" he sneered.

"You and fucking Malfoy! Since when are you into Death Eaters?" He was clinging to Hermione, and Ginny stood behind him. "What did he do to you? Curse you to get you to fuck him?"

"Ron," Hermione hissed.

"No, let him talk," Harry said coldly. He let go of Draco's hand and stepped towards them. There was fire in his eyes now.

"Tell us, how exactly did he get you into bed? Did he offer and you bent over?" Ron moved until they stood in the center of a growing circle of students.

Draco stood close by, ready to jump in if he was needed.

"Actually no. I offered first," Harry snarled just to see the shock and anger cross Ron's face, "And then I bent over."

"So you're nothing more than a Death Eater whore?" Ron sputtered. His face was going from red to purple with rage.

Harry drew his wand without thinking, "So tell me. How much did Dumbledore pay you?" he hissed and was rewarded with a look of pure astonishment.

"How do you-" Ron gritted his teeth, "Enough to get me to befriend a boring orphan with a lot of money. How does it feel to fuck someone who's been with the man who killed your parents?"

Harry drew his wand without thinking, "Say one more word Weasly, or I swear I'll-."

"You'll what? Kill me?" Ron laughed, "You forget that I know you Harry. You don't have to balls to kill anyone."

Three things happened simultaneously. A bolt of pure fire shot up Draco's right arm, Harry's eyes flashed the color of blood, and Ron collapsed to the ground with a shriek of pain. Draco gasped in agony. His mark was burning. Not tingling as it had several months ago, but truly burning.

He moved instinctively. His fingers curled around Harry's arm and he spun him towards him. Harry's fingers gripped his wrist, pulling it off of him and snapping it with ease. Draco hardly felt it. He knew those eyes. He still had nightmares about those eyes, "My Lord," he gasped, his body frozen in fear.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I hope this chapter is better than the last… I'm leaving it here on purpose, I'm not quite sure where to go with this, so I'm sorry in advance for the cliffhanger. You will be getting another chapter tomorrow. I swear on my integrity as a writer. Please review. *gets on knees and begs* please, please review. I feel like a terrible author if I don't get feedback. The next chapter will start where this one leaves off.**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	18. He's Returned

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**As promised, here is the next chapter! I'm glad you liked it. I love cliffhangers! Not when I'm the one reading them of course, but as a writer they have quite an impact. Anyway… AcadianProud: in order- it won't be pretty. With fear, but he still loves him. And not well, not well at all. Cherrie-san: well said. The shit really has hit the fan and it's about to get worse, a lot worse, and then better, and then worse again. If that makes sense. Anyway this is going to be the reproductions of the confrontation. **_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Seventeen: He's Returned?**

**Draco's POV**

His blood turned to ice at the malicious smiled that curled at his lover's lips. His eyes sparkled with contempt, and Draco stiffened when his fingers curled around his chin. Harry _No not Harry. Fuck it's Him… _Stepped forward. Draco stumbled but he followed, his fingers grasping his chin. Behind him Ron had stopped screaming, he lay still, and it didn't look like he was breathing. Draco whimpered when his back met the wall. He stepped as close as he could, and pressed his lips lightly to his ear.

"It's good to see you again Draco," the voice was not that of his lover's, but something menacing. It was a voice that promised pain and torment beyond his wildest dreams. "I'm glad to see you haven't changed a bit. Did you miss me Draco? I know I missed you."

He whimpered again in the back of his throat. Tears pricked his eyes. He could do nothing but stand there.

"I can't stay long this time," he purred in Draco's ear, "But I promise I will be back for you."

Almost out of nowhere Severus appeared behind him. Like he had, his fingers curled around his upper arm. Rather than breaking his wrist, Harry simply grinned at him, letting him see what had happened. Without warning he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

**Harry's POV**

He landed on all fours, his body trembling and his scar on fire. He felt lightheaded, drained as if he had just run a mile. His head hung down. His stomach twisted suddenly and his breakfast ended up on the shoes that hovered just inside his vision.

_What happened? Was I hexed?_ He couldn't remember. He remembered arguing with Ron, and then it was as if someone had flipped a switch. His memory had a huge black spot in it. He lifted his head cautiously and found himself staring up at Snape. Behind him, it seemed the entire school watched, a mixture of fear and confusion on their faces.

_He looks…afraid_. Harry realized as he met Snape's gaze. "What-?"

"I don't think speaking is the best thing for you right now Harry," he said softly.

"I don't-." He began. He sat back on his heels, his muscles trembling harder.

He only shook his head.

Harry frowned and looked around him. His eyes fell first on the unconscious from of Ron with Hermione kneeling at his side, and then on Draco, collapsed against the wall. He reached for him without thinking. His hair was a mess, his face ashy. He froze when Draco flinched from him. He frowned in confusion.

_What the hell._

"Stand. Slowly." Came a harsh voice from behind him.

He looked in shock as the Headmistress. Her wand was out, and pointed at him, "Ma'am, I don't understand."

"Please Harry stand," she repeated, her tone softer. He did as he was asked, "Miss. Granger take Mister Weasly to the hospital wing. Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, Severus, Please follow me." Her words were clipped, detached.

They filed out in a single file: the headmistress in front, Draco behind her, Harry behind him, and Snape bringing up the rear. The crowd parted, and he caught the whispers as the rumors spread.

"What did he do to him?"

"I've never seen anyone so angry…"

"I wonder if he's going to get expelled…"

As they mounted the stairs, Harry reached cautiously for Draco's hand, only to have it pulled out of his reach. It hurt worse than he cared to admit. They walked to her office in silence. The moment the door shut behind them she turned, her eyes alive with shock.

"What just happened?" she demanded, drawing up three chairs and collapsing behind her desk.

"I don't know. I was arguing with Ron and I felt angry, and then hot and then nothing." There was raw panic in Harry's voice. He knew he had done something, something he couldn't remember. "Please believe me," he pleaded.

She nodded before turning to Draco, "Mister Malfoy?"

Draco only shook his head, cradling his hand against his chest. "All I know is I tried to get in between them and got my wrist broken. Sev-Professor Snape came after that and Harry collapsed." His spoke without looking at anyone. He sounded tired, wrung out.

"I came towards the end. All I saw was Harry standing near Draco and Ronald on the floor," Snape's said smoothly.

"Did you attack him?" McGonagall asked, her eyes piercing.

"No," Draco said suddenly, "Ron attacked him first. You can ask anyone there and I'm sure they'll tell you the same."

"Be assured I will ask," she ran her hand absently through her hair. "If this were anyone else I wouldn't be doing this, but I can't hold you here Harry. Go to your rooms, you will be summoned when I have figured out more. Mister Malfoy you are free to go as well after," she held out her hand for his wrist and lightly touched it, knitting the bones back together. "Severus please stay, I'd like to talk to you."

They rose at the same time, walking side by side to the door. As soon it was closed Draco picked up speed.

"Draco wait," Harry called after him, he half ran to catch up. His took his hand, stopping him halfway down the stairs. "What happened Draco, please, tell me what really happened."

He kept his back to him as he told him.

"No." he gripped his hand tighter, "No, no, no." He couldn't process what he had just been told. "Are you sure? Please tell me you're wrong," tears sprang to his eyes.

He laughed bitterly, "Trust me, I wish I was."

"Draco please look at me," when he did Harry lightly touched his newly repaired wrist. "I would never hurt you. I am so sorry. Please…"

Draco gently took his hand, "I know Harry, damn it, but you have no idea… that look in his eye, in your eye," he let out a shuttering breath. "I can't go through that again. He almost destroyed me once if there's even a chance he could come back…"

Harry took him in his arms, and he let him, "Tell me please. I can help you, just please…" he didn't know what he was asking for. He hated that he was the reason for the dead look in his eyes.

"Not here," he said softly, "Let's go back and we'll talk there." He promised.

Harry bit his lip, "Draco I-."

Without warning he kissed him, "Don't apologize." Was all he said.

**Draco's POV**

He couldn't hate him. He wanted more than anything to tell Harry that he wanted nothing more to do with him, but he couldn't. The Dark Lord's words still rang in his ears, but it wasn't enough to make him tell Harry to fuck off. He feared him, or more what the man he loved could become, but he couldn't hate him.

_I must really love him…_ he thought absently.

It was the luck of the gods that they reached their rooms without passing anyone. _Funny, I already see it as our rooms._ When they did, Draco plopped down on the couch, pulling Harry with him.

"You want to know about why I fear him?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes. Let me help you love please."

He smiled slightly at the "love." Less than three hours ago Harry would have never said it. "Then I need you to just sit there and listen, because I'm only going to say it once. If I have to stop then I won't be able to finish."

Harry nodded, pulling him into his arms so that they lay on the couch. Harry's front to Draco's back.

"It started five years ago…" he began softly.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! Again I'm going to leave it here. The next chapter is going to be a long one and I won't be able to get it all down and keep my promise. Please review! Obviously the next chapter is going to be a look into Draco's past.**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	19. The Past is the Past

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**I hope you're ready for this because this is going to be quite emotional for Draco. Redmystique: you are epic, and I am in love with you. As are you AchillesTheGeek; and lovergirl101. Anyway, not much to say except this is going to be the revelation of a good part of Draco's past.**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Eighteen: The Past is the Past**

**Draco's POV**

"It started five years ago. The summer after the Dark Lord had been reborn. I remember the letter I had gotten from my father. He explained in great detail that "our" master had returned, and taken up residency in our home. He spelled out everything thing that had happened that night in the graveyard, and reminded me once again that I needed to keep an eye on you. These were his orders, and failure to do this would result in punishment.

"You have to understand, my father has always been a bastard. From a young age he beat his pureblood views into me. He reminded me every day that I was a Malfoy, that we were purebloods, and anything else was shit. He told me about the Dark Lord. He said he was the best of "our kind," a visionary who would return one day to cleanse the world of muggles, mudbloods, and blood traitors."

Draco sighed and shoved his fingers through his hair, "He beat the shit out of me when he caught me reading a muggle book when I was eight," he sighed deeply, "But I'm off topic. I did as I was told, relaying anything you said, anything you did pertaining to that night to my father, and through him to the Dark Lord. My father told me that I had pleased Him with my obedience, and that He wanted to see me. I can't explain the fear and pride I felt when I stepped into my families manor that day. I was finally going to meet the man my father so admired.

"My mother and father were waiting for me when I arrived. She seemed nervous, but he was pleased. I doubt I have ever seen my father so happy, save for the night of my Marking. My bags were taken, and I was instructed to change into something more…appropriate for meeting the greatest wizard that ever lived. Once I was dressed in perhaps the nicest clothes I've ever worn, they took me to my father's office. We waited outside the doors for what felt like an eternity. I was getting anxious by then. At one point, just before the doors opened, my mother leaned down and whispered so that my father wouldn't hear 'Draco you don't have to do anything you don't want. Remember that. You're not one of his followers, not yet. You have a right to say no.' I didn't know what she meant then, but now… Merlin I wished I had listened… And then I was ushered in, alone." His breath caught in his throat. He pressed his face into Harry's shoulder, letting out a low sob. Saying nothing Harry wrapped his arms tightly around him, pressing his lips to the top of his head.

After a moment, Draco pulled away. His eyes shone with unshed tears. He took two deep breaths before continuing. "He was sitting at my father's desk, and he was beautiful. He looked nothing like I was expecting, nothing like you described, or how he looked during meetings. His hair was short and perfectly straight, his skin was pure white and without any kind of flaw. He looked like a god, or more accurately a devil. The only thing that was the same was his eyes. Bright, bright red. He offered me a chair, with the most pleasant smile I've ever seen. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that there has been no one I've been more attracted to," he felt Harry flinch. "I'm not saying I'm not attracted to you. I am, but there was something about him, something raw and dangerous. It was like being in the room with a leopard. It's beautiful, but it could rip out your heart and devour your flesh and feel nothing.

"We talked about nothing for hours. He asked about my schooling, my friends, my enemies, quiddich, safe things. I felt so relaxed around him. He knows people, how they work, what button's to press," Draco shivered. "I didn't even realize when the conversation changed. 'Mister Malfoy,' he had purred softly, 'Your father tells me that you feel strongly about my…plans are ruler.'

" 'Yes sir. My father raised me to be a true Pureblood. And when am old enough I intend to join your army.' I was an idiot. If I had known what I was talking about I would have walked out of there without saying another word.

" 'Do you now? Interesting. And how do you know that I will accept you into my fold?'

" 'Well Sir. My father is a member of your inner circle, and my aunt and uncle as well. Nearly my entire family is your supporters. It seems only logical that I join their ranks.'

" 'So you expect to get by on name alone?' he laughed. It was soft, with just a hint of seduction. 'Clearly you don't know what you are talking about. You only become one of my Death Eaters by proving yourself. Are you willing to prove yourself Draco?' Even when he was insulting me, I felt no anger.

" So I said 'Yes Sir.'

"He asked me to stand, and I did. He walked slowly around the desk. I was afraid and…nervous…and aroused. There was something about him. He knew I wanted him, and he knew that I would be willing to do what it took to please my father. He walked around me first without touching me but I could feel his eyes, analyzing every part of me. I could feel him in my head, pulling from me my deepest darkest desires. When he finally touched me it was chaste, but I nearly melted in his hands. He turned my face to one side, and then the other. I could tell he was pleased with what he saw. He unbuttoned my shirt and I made no move to stop him," Draco's voice was strained now, soft and pained, "He traced every part of my chest and back before removing my pants as well."

Draco stopped suddenly. The tears that had only glistened in his eyes now feel. A sob shook his body and Harry did the only thing he could. He held him while he cried. He didn't say a word, he didn't need to.

After several minutes he calmed, but still he said nothing. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if he would say any more when he spoke. "He took me right then and there across my father's desk." His voice was hollow. "I won't say I didn't enjoy it. He was my first. It wasn't like…after. Things changed when I got my Mark, but this time was like I was his lover. Well except for one thing." He let out a shuttering breath, and lightly touched the small "V" that adorned his right hip. "When we were finished and dressed my father was brought in. He knew immediately what had happened," another tear feel. "Looking back he should have been pissed he should have said that it wasn't right, I was only fourteen, but he didn't. He was glad it had happened. He made me tell him details later when we were alone.

"But that's not important. What is, is what happened after. For the rest of the summer I became a sort of favorite of his. I think it's safe to say we were lovers. Whether he had others besides me I found out much later, but he took me every chance he got. The entire summer I was by his side, in his bed, at his meetings. You must understand I wasn't a Death Eater yet; He had no claim over me, and never laid a hand on me in punishment even if I had displeased him. He was good in that way. If you were not "his" and you were not a muggle, muggle-born, or blood traitor, he would not harm you.

"I convinced myself I loved him. That I was better than anyone he had been with, any of his followers because he had claimed me as his own. I bragged about the scar on my hip. When school started back, I didn't want to go. I couldn't leave him. But I did. You know most of what happened that year. Umbridge, the twin's escape, her punishments. None of that really matters to this, I was so happy, proud of what I thought to be my elevated status. I saw him every chance I got. It was all perfect, almost like an actual relationship. Everything went well until my father failed him.

"I knew I was in trouble the moment the news reached me that not only had my lover been reviled as back, but my father had been sent to Azkaban for treason. I was terrified where I had been excited the summer before. There was a Death Eater to collect me from the train, and take me immediately to the Dark Lord.

"I knew immediately that things had changed. He was in his "snake" form, where he had always appeared human to me before. He didn't offer me a chair as he had a year before. He had me kneel, as I had seen his Death Eaters do when approaching him alone. He didn't say anything to me for the longest time, until finally, very softly he asked me if I had heard the news of my father. I told him yes, adding in My Lord, because I felt need for it. He asked me what I thought of it, and I told him that he should not have failed, that it was a disgrace. He laughed, and asked if I would be willing to make up for my father's mistakes. I told him yes, I would do anything.

"I should have said no. Nothing would have changed if I had. But I said yes. He asked me if I would be willing to take my father's place in the Inner circle, and I said yes. He nodded, before ordering me to be taken to the basement." He stopped again. He was shaking now, whimpering softly. He didn't speak for the longest time as the memories gripped him.

"A month. He tortured me for a full month until I had broken. That month, he did whatever he could to destroy me. About half of my scars are from my "training" as he called it. I was crucioed until my nerves were dead and shaking. I was beaten, cut, burned, starved, left in solitude, and raped all in the name of breaking me. I can't tell you what that's like," his voice was hallow, emptied completely of emotion. "If you've never been though it it's like being empty. You can't think, can't feel, can't fight. All you can do is accept that he is strong and you are weak. You would do anything to stop the pain.

"After I had been broken, he brought me back up, and began molding me into the Death Eater he needed. It wasn't just me that got that, it was part of the initiation of every Death Eater. After I was as he needed me to be, afraid and obedient, he marked me. It was as if it were two different people. He was nothing like the man who I had loved.

"I filed my first mission, an assassination attempt on a high-up ministry member. He tortured me again for it. This happened five times in the span of a month. He was setting me up to fail. He wanted me to pay for my father's mistakes. When he gave me my biggest mission, to kill Dumbledore, it nearly drove me to madness. I was afraid of him, afraid of failing, afraid of the Headmaster. I regretted everything I had done. And well, you know the rest. He was a sadistic bastard that enjoyed torturing me. He knew exactly how to hurt me. He made me love him when I was fourteen so that he could break my heart."

**Harry's POV**

Draco's voice broke, and he stopped, burying his head in his hands. He remained that way despite Harry's silent comfort. When he was sure that he had nothing more to say, Harry spoke, "I'm sorry Draco. I am so sorry." He let the tears run down his face. "I understand now. I understand if you don't want me because of what happened today." Harry stood and moved away from him, "I will not touch you if there is any chance I could hurt you."

Guilt ripped him apart from the inside. He hadn't known the true effect his momentary transformation had had on his love, but now that he did, he couldn't touch him, knowing that he had hurt him. Harry stood, and started towards the bedroom. _He doesn't want to be around me… I'm no better than Voldemort._ He was disgusted with himself, fueled by his guilt. Draco's hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He tried to shake it off, but he held on tighter.

"Please don't do this. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. Please Harry," he stood and lightly kissed him, "I love you, please don't do this." He was crying as he kissed him.

Harry didn't react until Draco forced his tongue into his mouth. He moaned low and tormented in the back of his throat, and kissed him back. He took control without thinking about it, sliding his hands into Draco's hair and pulling him closer to form a more passionate kiss. Like the night before, this was desperate. It was a kiss of pain morphing into raw lust. Harry moaned and kissed him harder, sliding his hands into Draco's pants.

They were tanged on the couch again before he realized it. He hadn't realized there was someone else in the room before it was too late. A hand plunged into his hair, jerking him away from Draco and throwing him against the far wall. A wand was pressed to his throat, and he found himself gazing into the wild eyes of Snape.

"What the hell!" He didn't struggle; he simply looked over at the bewildered Draco. He shook his head once, before turning back to Snape.

He could feel his anger rising and on the tails of that the unmistakable power of the Dark Lord. He forced it down, this would not be the time to lose control, "What are you doing Professor?" he asked patiently.

"You're him," he hissed, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you now. I will not have Him coming back. Give me a reason." He pressed his wand harder against his throat.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I hope you like it. I'm sorry if it's not good, please don't hate me… The next chapter will be…something I don't really know… I'm not sure what I want to do. I'll post soon, promise! Love you all!**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	20. Love

_**Hello Everyone!**_

_**I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've had the biggest case of writer's block for this story… I've been stuck and haven't really had the urge to work on this. On top of that I've been battling some pretty nasty demons from my past. It seems those bastards like to make an appearance when I've got better things to worry about. I'm going to try and crank out a chapter soon, but I'm just not feeling it… I'm sorry for making you wait, please forgive me. **_

_**I don't own Harry Potter.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_

**Chapter Nineteen: Love**

**Draco's POV**

"I-" Harry began.

"You have no idea what it was like for us! You have no idea what it was like being with him. And it's already started again. You've already hurt Draco once," he shook Harry hard, ignoring the pained look in his eyes. "I should kill you for just that."

"I love him," Draco said suddenly, lightly pressing his hand to Snape's wrist. He pressed down a little harder, forcing him to lower his wand. "I would never forgive you if you killed him."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Snape snapped, turning on Draco. "You thought you loved him before and he nearly killed you! I will not let that happen again."

"I'm not talking about Voldemort," he hissed. He glared at his godfather. "I'm talking about Harry. I love him damn it, and I will not let you hurt him."

"Draco," Harry said softly, looking from one to the other, "Maybe he has a point. I mean if there's any chance that I could result in Him coming back, then maybe it would be best for everyone if…"

"I swear Harry if you even think of suggesting that it would be better if you were dead…" he didn't finish his threat. There was fury in his gaze when he turned it to his lover. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had known, hell everyone had known that Harry had gone to his death during the Battle for Hogwarts, but Draco didn't want to think that he would be willing to go to death to prevent anything from happening again.

"Draco, he's right. I did hurt you and-" he started again. He moved before he could say more, stepping around Snape and pressing Harry to the wall. His fingers curled in his shirt as he kissed him as hard as he could. Harry kissed him back reflexively, but it was tainted with regret.

"Damn it," he murmured against his lips. Pulling back to glare at him, Draco took Harry's face in his hands. "I love you Harry. Never doubt that. I understand what happened. I might not like it, and I might be weary of it happening again, but I love you, and I know that _you_ would never hurt me."

Harry's eyes were still pained, "If it happens again?" he countered weakly.

Draco shook his head, "Then we'll deal with it then."

Snape cleared his throat, and met Draco's gaze, "You're being foolish," he hissed. "I could have tolerated you and Potter but after this morning," he shook his head. "You're like a son to me, you know that. I would give my life if it meant you would be safe."

"I know, but you're not going to change my mind," he murmured, taking Harry's hand and moved so that he was standing next to him. When Harry tried to pull away he tightened his grip.

"I know," he sighed, and ran a hand through his greasy hair. "If there's nothing I can do to prevent this," he turned to Harry, stalking forward until they were standing nose to nose. "If you hurt him, I swear you're death will be the most painful experience of your life."

Harry met his gaze, "Sir, if I hurt him, I wouldn't do anything to stop you."

**Harry's POV**

Gilt tore through his stomach as he watched the interaction between the two of them. The memories of his actions hovered just on the edge, out of reach. He couldn't remember hurting Draco, but that was no excuse; he had still done it. He wanted nothing more than to pull away from the man he loved, so that he couldn't hurt him again, but he was clinging to his hand, preventing him from doing so.

"So what did the Headmistress want?" Draco asked finally, sitting on the couch and pulling Harry with him.

"She wanted my help looking into the matter, and as it turns out there is nothing that can be done. There's no proof that Harry had harmed Mister Weasley, there's not a hint on him that magic was used at all."

"I don't understand. Obviously something was done to him." Harry said softly.

"It takes a very powerful wizard to preform magic and leave no trace. There isn't anyone I know that could do it. Even at the height of his power the Dark Lord couldn't preform magic to that degree. My best guess would be that the combined power of both of you was enough to effectively erase any indication that you harmed Mister Weasley."

"I didn't think that was possible," Harry looked down at his hands, which were entwined with Draco's in his lap.

"Until a few hours ago, I didn't think I was possible for a man that's been dead for a year to act through another's body. It seems that you got quite lucky Harry."

"Is that what you call it?" he asked, laughing bitterly. He felt drained, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, even though the clock across from him said it was only one in the afternoon.

"It could have been worse, all things considered. Like I said, you have no idea what he was capable of."

"He has a point," Draco shifted uncomfortable next to him, "You could have done any number of things. It could have been a lot worse."

Harry glared at the wall, as if it were responsible for what had happened. He wished he could remember what had happened, but his mind was blank. The guilt was almost enough to overshadow the anger. He had wanted to hurt Ron, but to have it done in such a way was inexcusable. "What do you think caused it?" he asked softly. "I mean I killed him, every Horcrux he had was destroyed, there is no way he could have survived."

"I don't know," Snape responded. "I haven't heard of anything like this. There's only one other person that has ever even made a Horcrux, and it was never on anything living. I have a theory, but it still needs to be tested," he held up his hand before either of them could ask, "Not now. I don't want to say anything before I have a chance to do a little research first."

Harry nodded, chewing on his lip as he thought over the events that had transpired in the past few hours. As if sensing his discomfort, Draco launched into a conversation in an obvious attempt to change the subject about the upcoming holidays. Harry barely listened. He was still poring over the events of the past few hours. Almost absently he traced the underside of Draco's wrist. It felt as if it had healed, but he felt him stiffen all the same. It was such a small movement that he doubted Draco even noticed that he had done it, but it hurt Harry almost as bad as when he had flinched from his touch.

Harry slowly climbed to his feet, untangling himself from his boyfriend. He excused himself absently, feigning exhaustion and waving off Draco's attempt to accompany him to the bedroom. It took all he had not to run to the room. He could feel their eyes on his retreating back, and he didn't want to worry them. There was a soft click as the door swung shut behind him. He closed his eyes and leaned against the cool wood, dread washing over him. A low whine pulled from his chest. Guilt clogged his throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe. For seven years he had fought against the Dark Lord, and finally in a stroke of pure luck he had killed him. Today proved that he was no better than him; he had hurt the man he loved, and nearly killed someone who had once been a close friend.

He had thought it was over, that he had a chance at a normal life. The moment the battles were over, and the magical world had begun rebuilding, he had realized that wasn't the case he discovered the first time he had went out that he could never be normal. He had foolishly thought that with the Dark Lord dead, people would begin to forget about him and his fame. They had swarmed him the moment he had shown his face, all wanting an exclusive on his part in the war. It had been pure hell…

_Panic was his first reaction. His flight or fight response kicked into overdrive as he stared down at the sea of faces. He had been forced onto stage, for all to see. Ron and Hermione, as well as the key players of DA stood behind him. They all beamed at him, waiting for him to make his move. Cameras went off everywhere, effectively blinding him. 'Escape. I have to escape.'_

"_Mister Potter!" another excited cry came from the mob that crowed the small stage. "Mister Potter, you've just killed the most evil wizard in history, what are your plans next?"_

"_Mister Potter! You've been missing for nearly a year now, where were you?"_

"_Mister Potter!"_

"_Harry Potter!"_

"_Over here, Mister Potter!"_

"_If I could just have a moment of your time."_

_The cameras continued to capture him, still bloody, his shirt torn, his wand clutched weakly in his hand. He was completely drained, death had taken quite a bit out of him, and then the strength it had taken to fight off the Dark Lord had taken the rest of his power. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in a bed and sleep for the rest of eternity. It all seemed unreal in his weakened state. He couldn't quite grasp what had happened. _The Dark Lord is dead…

_He franticly looked around for a way out, and seeing none he did the only thing he could think of. He summoned the last bit of energy and though of his home. He collapsed onto the front steps of Grimmauld Place, his body trembling from exhaustion. He lay curled up there for several minutes, his muddled brain screaming that he needed to get inside where it was safe. When he finally could convince himself to stand he did so on shaking legs. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, he vanished, sinking into the deepest pits of depression…_

Harry groaned low in the back of his throat as he tore himself from the memory. He pushed away from the door, crumpling onto the bed and curling his body around itself. He didn't want to remember, but the stress of the day had opened the floodgates, pouring forth his most painful memories.

_He was lying in a small space, curled up in threadbare sheets. His stomach clenched painfully. He was hungry, so hungry. The room stank of piss. They had "forgotten" to let him out today. He pressed his face into the pillow, tears flowing down his cheeks. He would have given anything to escape here, but the door was locked, there was no way to open it. _

_No sooner did the thought cross his mind did the door burst open. He lifted his head weakly to look at it, not comprehending what had happened. He stood slowly, tiptoeing out of the cupboard and to the kitchen. He moved slowly to the refrigerator, grabbing the first thing his hands touched and cramming it in his mouth as fast as he could. He hadn't been paying attention. He didn't hear him come down the stairs. _

"_How dare you," the first blow caught him across the face._

Harry flinched, biting into his lip to suppress a whimper. He was shaking. His muscles tightened as he trembled uncontrollably. He was crying, his tears staining his cheeks. Low sobs echoed around the room. He was dimly aware of the door opening, and of arms encircling him.

"Shh," someone hissed in his ear. "Harry love what is it?"

He shook his head. He became aware of someone saying 'I'm sorry' over and over; it took him several seconds to realize it was him.

Lips were in his hair, and the arms tightened. He was pulled against a warm chest, and he turned to press his face into a shirt. Draco's smell filled his nose, and he cried harder.

"Harry," he murmured softly, "It's ok love. I understand." He ignored the murmurs; they were useless things that meant nothing.

"Go away," he sobbed, trying to push away the person holding him.

The arms only tightened. Despite his struggles the soft words continued, in a vain attempt to bring comfort. He was held until his tears finally ran dry and exhaustion overtook him, plunging him into darkness.

_**Thank you for reading Everyone! I feel like such a terrible writer. I make you all wait so long for a chapter than then I give you crap… I am so sorry… If you hate me tell me in a nice way… If you stick with me there will be a lemon next chapter (maybe that's all it will be to make up for this). I feel stuck, but I promise you won't have to wait so long for the next chapter…**_

_**~Angelia Reader**_


	21. Author's Note

**_Hello Everyone. _**

**_I'm really sorry for this, but I'm putting this story on hold while I revise it. I've gotten a beta, and I am going to go through each chapter and rewrite it. I'm a bit stuck as far as plot goes, and I'm hoping a re-write will help me get back on track. Some of the changes may involve you to go back for a re-read. I hope I don't lose any of my amazing fans because of this. I love you all! Without you this story would have never been possible. I will inform you when my revising is finished, and then continue with the story. Thank you for your support!_**

**_With love, now and forever more,_**

**_Angelia Reader_**


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